iCarly: iMeet the Relatives
by Nitebreaker
Summary: So Carly and Grif's relationship has survived his revelation. But now comes the true test. After all, there's more than one angel on Earth. What will their reaction be? Not to mention that the Darkness still waits...and hungers. Sequel to iMake a Decision. NOW COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 1: A Polite Little Dinner

….

 _Much as I'd like to, I don't own iCarly._

… _._

Chapter 1: A Polite Little Dinner

Carly, Grif, and Aunt Maggie were still standing on the top of the building in downtown Seattle, with the rain pouring off of them, when Maggie's cell phone went off. She left the two lovebirds and stepped away to take the call.

Before she did, she took a look at the caller ID. _Oh, no. Not yet! Not so soon!_

"Carly, you're soaking wet! Here, let me…" He passed his hand over her, and she was instantly dry, clothes and all. "Okay," she said admiringly, " _that's_ a cool trick to have!"

"Yeah, well, I do know a few." He kissed her again. It was amazing, she thought. Just moments before, she'd discovered that A.) angels were real, tangible beings, and B.) Griffin, or Gryphon, as it was correctly spelled, was one.

Her boyfriend. An angel. An honest-to-goodness _freaking flying angel!_ Sam and Freddie were gonna go into major league shock…

That is, if they believed her in the first place.

Maggie rejoined them, an air of concern on her face. "I sincerely hope neither of you had any plans for the rest of the evening. We've all been invited out to dinner."

"Dinner?" Carly was aware that her stomach _was_ feeling pretty empty. Dinner sounded like a good idea; just let her go home, grab some things…

Grif was looking at his aunt with an expression of dismay. "Uh, Aunt Maggie? That's your 'trouble' face." What? What did he mean by that?

Maggie nodded. "I'm afraid it is. Carly, we've been invited to Chez Lounge." She paused, and it seemed to Carly that she was just a little bit shaken. Maggie turned to Grif. "It seems your uncle Jemiah wants to meet Carly."

Carly looked at the two. "Who's Uncle Jemiah?" It might have been her imagination, but Grif looked a little more pale right now than he had a moment ago. Even when he'd contemplated Falling.

"My Uncle Jemiah is…let's just say, he's a bit of a formidable person. I'm surprised, however, at…well, at how fast this happened." He turned to Maggie. "Do…do you think we…I…should be concerned?"

Maggie's face took on a calculating look. "With Jemiah, one should _always_ be concerned. But I doubt he'll call down fire upon the city, if that's what you're thinking, Grif."

Carly hiccupped a laugh. "Well, I should hope not!" She saw their expressions. "Uh, that was a joke, right? An angel joke?"

"Of course it was a joke! I…hopeAnyway, are the two of you ready yet?"

"Ready?" gasped Carly, still trying to disentangle the previous sentence. "I, I'm not! You don't mean right _now_ , do you? I don't even know what to…you said the Chez Lounge? I don't think I even _have_ clothes for a place that fancy!"

"Never mind. Here. Come over here, Carly." Maggie took Carly over a few feet away. "You get dressed," she said to Grif. "That tuxedo of yours should do nicely." She turned to Carly, turning her this way and that. "Hm. Yes. I can see it." She passed her hand over Carly's head, and Carly's clothes…changed.

They remained the same clothes, but the molecules rearranged themselves into something closer to formal evening attire, a stylish formfitting dress outfitted with numerous small, artfully arranged jewels. The dark dress was sleeveless, with a U-shaped neckline…and it looked like it cost more than the entire Shay household for a year. "I…I can't wear this!"

"Of course you can. Griffin? Are you about ready?"

"Yes, Aunt Maggie." Carly turned to see Grif attired in a black formal tuxedo, replete with cufflinks sporting what looked like real diamonds. "Sorry it took me so long. I'm not used to dressing like this." He smiled a bit sheepishly.

The trio stood there, with the storm still raging around them, yet the rain not touching any of them. Idly, Carly thought it had seemed like a lifetime ago when she'd been afraid of thunder, of lightning. But now….now something was different, something about _her_ , something fundamental, had changed. Now she simply wasn't afraid anymore.

"Alright." And, in between one eyeblink and another, Maggie herself was splendidly attired in an outfit much like Carly's, backless and sleeveless, with long white gloves. "Well." She gave the other two a brave smile. "Let's….get this over with."

Chez Lounge had a reputation throughout Seattle, and throughout the entire northwestern area of the United States, in fact. It was by invitation only. _Only_ the absolute upper elite ever even _thought_ about eating there. And, like the saying went about yachts, if you had to ask how much it cost, you couldn't afford it.

The doorman looked as though he was perfectly ready and willing to toss the President of the United States out on his ear, should that individual even dare to try to cross the threshold, uninvited. His was such an intimidating look, that Carly, normally not one lacking for social courage, found herself shrinking up against Grif. _See? I'm with them._ "Party of three, to join Mr. Sinclair. Yes, Ms. Strider. Mr. Sinclair has secured the gold room for you."

"The-the gold room?" Maggie seemed to be taken aback. The look she shot Carly did absolutely nothing to reassure her. "Well. Let's go…join him."

The gold room was precisely what its name implied. All of its fixtures were of cast gold—not gold plated, but solid gold. The chandelier, the picture and mirror frames, every utensil in sight, and every plate and platter. Even the walls were decorated in plates and stylings of pure gold, and the tablecloth was hemmed with it. Carly couldn't help but think that this room alone probably contained more gold than the equivalent space in Fort Knox.

Seated at the table, and now rising to greet them, was a tall man of indeterminate age. Uncle Jemiah had the look of a Fortune 500 CEO, combined with the confidence of a Marine combat instructor. He had firm regular features, light grey hair, and was wearing a magnificent blacker-than-black tuxedo of his own. Over and above all, he projected an air of _solidness_ about him. As his gaze traveled over them, Carly couldn't help but feel a little cowed by the sheer impact of his personality. This was a force of nature shaped like a man. "Margaret. Gryphon. Welcome. Come, sit." He indicated places for them. Carly noted he reserved one place right beside him, on the left.

He turned to her, the full force of his gaze practically physically pushing her back. "So. You are the young mortal who has seduced my nephew."

 _Er, to be continued?_


	2. Chapter 2: A Little Dinner Conversatioin

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 2: A Little Dinner Conversation

… _.._

 _iGuess by now you know iDon't own iCarly. If not, then iDon't._

 _Just so's we're iClear._

 _Hyuk!_

… _._

Chapter 2: A Little Dinner Conversation

For a brief moment, everyone was stunned, shocked expressions on their faces. Then Grif made a bit of a choking sound. "Uh, uhm, U-uncle, that, that was, perhaps an unfortunate, and, and even misleading choice of words…."

"But no less true. I mean that in no vulgar sense. Here, Miss Shay. Sit here, by me. We've much to discuss, you and I."

Carly sat. She couldn't get over that she was sitting right next to an actual _angel_. Not even a little bit like the pictographs and paintings. Sitting next to Jemiah was like sitting next to a living thunderbolt.

"You are wondering," he suddenly said, "why I have insisted upon this meeting. And so early in your relationship—at least, in your relationship as it currently is. All that will be revealed." He nodded to Maggie and Gryphon. "I sense the same confusion in the both of you.

"But what will transpire here tonight will reverberate down through the Ages of Man, and may well affect how those Ages pass. Nor am I being overly melodramatic. If anything, I am understating the case." He turned to Carly. "Miss Shay. What do you think of my nephew? Not as an angel, nor as a man, but as…himself?"

Carly thought. Maybe she was getting used to all the shocks this evening. "I'm not sure I know what you're asking."

"To put it another way, now that you know of his true nature…now what?"

Their food arrived. They took a moment to begin eating, and Carly wasn't overly surprised that there was no alcoholic drinks offered. Somehow the idea of a drunk angel was both funny and terrifying, at the same time. (Could angels even get drunk?) The food itself seemed to be a kind of quiche, of a superb quality. The word "heavenly" came to mind…

Right then, Carly made a decision. She wasn't about to be cowed by these beings…Uncle Jemiah especially. Maybe he was trying to psych her out or something…well, it wasn't gonna work. She wouldn't let him _scare_ her.

After all, what was the worst he could do to her?

Ah, well, scratch that.

"To return to my question," Jemiah rumbled, "It is very much the right time to ask it. Soon, you will return to your apartment. Your friend Sam will ask you how your evening was, how your date went. She doesn't know anything about the tiff you two had, nor its—for you, startling—conclusion. What will you tell her? You, who share all with her?" And here he again gave Carly a look that seemed like a physical force.

What, indeed, would she say? Sam could easily be there, waiting for her when she returned. What would she tell her? "Well, see, Sam, it's like this…Grif's an angel—no, not a Hell's Angel, a—no, that's not the name of a rock group he's in, he's a—no, not that, either! Will you _please_ just sit still for a minute! I'll explain everything! He and his whole family are angels, like, like with wings angels, angels that fly in the sky, and he's decided to remain here, Earthbound, the only partially-Fallen angel in existence, to be Earth's personal guardian angel…." Yeah, that made for a really great start. She was having a hard time wrapping her own mind around all that, and _she'd been there_.

But even scarier was the part of the above rough draft that she felt compelled to put in for some reason: _"Oh, and I might'a kinda got engaged last night."_

Holy crap.

Er, maybe _Good grief_ would make a better expostulation.

"To return to my question, young Miss Shay…what I ask you is what you will be, what you have been, asking of yourself. I believe humans occasionally refer to it as a consequences sort of question. 'What have I gotten myself into?' sort of question."

"I…see. I think. So you're asking…am I serious about this? Am I in this for the long haul? The duration, so to speak?"

"As you say, the duration. Regardless of what that duration may be."

"Alright." She shot a quick glance over to Grif. He was watching her, and his expression said, _be careful, Carly._ "I'll put it to you this way: _I_ think I'm in it for keeps. Is that what you want to know?"

"And yet," rumbled Jemiah, "'twas not long ago that you dared to express amusement at his choice of hobbies."

"That was then."

"And what has changed since?"

Carly lifted her head, looking Jemiah in the eye. She found she had to work at it, but she did it. " _I've_ changed. I took a look at the sort of person who'd do that, and decided I didn't like that sort of person. And I was the only person who could do anything about that.

"Sometimes we have to make a mistake in order to realize that it _is_ a mistake. And sometimes…sometimes, we get the chance to correct it. It's called growth."

For a brief moment, Jemiah held her gaze, and it seemed to Carly that she could see a huge light shining behind and throughout him, a visible, palpable Power shining through him, like the sun shining through a thunderstorm. There was moment when it seemed that the mortal world and everything in it was so very ephemeral, like images reflected on smoke: nothing but fleeting images that are there one moment, then gone the next, with only the Eternal remaining. Then the moment was gone. "Well spoken," he said. "Well spoken, indeed." He turned to his plate. "I would charge you to remember those words." Carly gulped silently. What had just happened? She stole a quick look at Gryphon and Maggie. Grif smiled and nodded encouragement; Aunt Maggie also smiled, twirling her glass of iced distilled water.

She couldn't deny the reality that Uncle Jemiah had spoken of. What was Grif, to her? Husband material? Was she ready for that? And yet…and yet, how could he be anything less, after all they'd been through? "I know, sir, that there'll be many things we'll have to talk about, Grif and I. But…" And here she cast a thoughtful look at him. "Somehow I get the impression there's something more you wanted to bring to my—our—attention. Or am I wrong?"

Now Uncle Jemiah actually smiled. "There is. May I compliment you, nephew, on your taste? The one you love has an extraordinarily sharp mind."

"Thank you, Uncle."

"Which she will need. Now, Miss Shay: to the purpose of this dinner, of which there will be others: you know of Gryphon's true nature. Even in his current, semi-Fallen state, he is still of the Host of the Dominion, the Lordships, Second Highest in all the angelic spheres. How much of his identity will you share with your friends?"

After a moment, Carly nodded. This had actually been on her mind, fleetingly. But she'd need all her wits about her, because she was essentially on a kind of trial here, to determine her worthiness. "I understand your concerns. I saw, when Aunt Maggie—er, I'm sorry, Maggie, I didn't mean to use a too familiar term-*"

"That's quite alright, Carly."

"Anyway, I saw in there about how, in the past, angels had been mistaken for gods, and worshipped. And I sorta saw some of why this shouldn't be….or did I?"

"If you saw that, in most human religions, control is the key, then yes, you did. All human religions exert, or attempt to exert, some sort of social control over humans. Most of the time this is no bad thing.

"But in some cases, it can become one. Much innocent blood has been shed in the name of _religion_. And, it should be noted, this control is intended to work both ways."

"Uh, say what?"

"Consider. Those in the religious hierarchy control those underneath them, socially, with threats of punishments and promises of rewards. Well and good; most social systems here in the mortal world work in much the same way. One can hardly expect anything radically different from any people trapped in such a cycle of time.

"But it is frequently presumed that those worshipped either need or enjoy being worshipped. So those in control of said worship may seek to extend their control to those above them: the very beings or Being they claim to worship. By withholding said worship—or by other means-if certain conditions are not met.

"There is a human saying: something for something, nothing for nothing. Left to itself, this saying can lead to untold misery."

Carly thought hard. Unnoticed, Grif and Maggie exchanged glances. "Sooo….what you're getting at is…me or someone trying to take advantage of…of Grif's powers? Get him to do things?"

Jemiah steepled his fingers before him. "You needn't be offended; it is a legitimate concern. Also you. Someone may wish to take advantage of your relationship with him. Should knowledge of who and what he is become commonplace, you could find yourself in danger. Considerable danger."

Gulp. Considering the stakes…angelic power…that kind of power at someone's, some mortal's fingertips… She nodded. "Yeah—uh, I mean, yes, sir. The whole 'secret identity' thing, I mean, fictional super heroes. Except now it's real, isn't it? And, and way more than… But how much do I tell them? I mean, I tell Sam everything…and Spencer's my brother…Freddy I could maybe keep in the dark, but…"

"But if you do not 'come clean' with all your friends, when, not if, this matter becomes known, they will want to know why you did not tell them to begin with. And would they be right to wonder?

"They might ask what kind of a friend you were, not to trust them.

"And they, too, may be targeted, in an attempt to exert some control over Gryphon. Nor would ignorance necessarily shield them.

"You see, these rules such as we have were not put into place for no reason, or simply because we loved making up rules just to make others miserable. Quite the opposite. There is a very good reason why things are the way they are. But things…are no longer the way they were." And for a brief moment, Jemiah's air of invincibility softened somewhat, and Carly could see the shadow of someone who'd seen the results, the horrendous results, of bad decisions, bad decisions made at the cosmic level. "And decisions made tonight will affect Ages yet to be."

…

Grif saw Carly back to her apartment. It had been an evening, and Carly felt like her brain had been given a radical workout. There really were only two options: tell no one, or tell just a chosen few, cross your fingers and hope for the best. "I'm sorry, Carly. I feel like I've dragged you into a real mess." The two were still in formal dress; the storm outside was fading, but it was approaching midnight.

"Grif, _you_ didn't 'drag' me anywhere. I went where I went because I wanted to. So don't even get me started." She bit her lip. "But your uncle's right. I don't suppose you'd happen to have any, like, angelic advice to offer?"

He shrugged. "I've never heard of this sort of thing happening. I mean…we, we just never…you know."

She sighed, and led him over to the couch. Sat beside him, and pulled her legs up under her, her arm propped on the backrest. She was still in the gown Aunt Maggie had conjured up for her. In the back of her mind, she wondered how she'd explain to Spencer—or any of them—how she came into possession of a dress worth more than the entire apartment they lived in. "Yeah, that'd make it too easy, I guess. I guess I'll just have to think about it."

He stood up. "Well, I should be going. You're tired, and tomorrow's a school day. So…see you later?"

She stood up in front of him, putting her arms around him and drawing him into a kiss. "You know it."

Back at Chez Lounge, Uncle Jemiah was still sitting in his seat. Another tuxedo-wearing person came in and stood by Jemiah. "How did it go, sir?"

"Better. Better than I had any right to expect." He sighed, a look of discouragement touching momentarily upon his granite-like features. "Ages come, and Ages go, Jalial. Another Age approaches even as we speak.

"I sincerely hope it will not be an Age such as the last one."

 _To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3: Apartment Hunting

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 3: Apartment Hunting

…..

 _They rejected my offer; I still don't own iCarly. Da-*, er, darn._

… _.._

Chapter 3: Apartment Hunting

….

Carly had barely made it back in when Sam knocked on the door. Without thinking, she opened it. "Hey, Carls, did I just see Grif—Wha—hoe! What ARE you wearing? Look at YOU!" And she spun Carly around. "WHERE on EARTH did you get THIS?!"

"Oh! Uh," Too late, Carly remembered Aunt Maggie conjuring up her evening dress. She'd intended to be out of it before she saw anyone else, but, as usual, Sam managed to catch her off guard. "I-it's a loaner. Grif's aunt loaned it to me."

"I didn't know you two were the same size." Sam's eyes were still popping out of her head, as she assessed the overall value of what her best friend had on. "They must be, uh, really _really_ well off. What was the occasion?" Distantly, they could hear the thunder returning; evidently Seattle's storm wasn't over with yet.

"Well, let me go get this off before I tear it or something, and I'll tell you. Truth is, Sam, I could use somebody to listen to…something pretty incredible, anyway."

Sam followed her upstairs, while Carly managed to get, partially, out of the dress. Sam had to help her a little, so form-fitting was it. "Man, Carls. I NEVER would'a thought I'd ever even SEE such a dress, that is, outside of some awards show. DAMN!" Carly jumped as though pricked with a pin. "I should'a got some pics! Now, _no_ body's gonna believe!" "Pics or it didn't happen" was the internet rule, and both girls knew it.

 _Just as well,_ thought Carly. She wasn't ready for this kind of notoriety just yet. Or maybe ever. She threw on some pajamas. "Sam. Come with me." And she led her friend downstairs, and sat her down on the couch. "I've…learned some things. And…there's something I wanna bounce off you, an' see how it goes. Something I may—make that will—need to share with the rest."

"Okay." Sam sat back against the cushions, perfectly relaxed, an expression of attention on her face. Carly thought just how plain _pretty_ her friend was. She oughtta have the boys circling about her in a holding pattern, but, between her tom-boy plus personality, coupled with her fiercely independent nature, that wasn't the case.

"Okay. Grif came by tonight. I, I could tell he…I could tell he needed to talk to me about something. A-and we…talked. I'm afraid my end of things didn't go well."

"What was it about?"

"He's got a secret. One he was really hesitant to share with me, and, once he told me, I could see wh-*

"He's married!" Sam was aghast.

" _No._ It's not that, it's—"

"He's divorced!" Sam grabbed Carly's hands. "Oh, Carls!"

" _No._ It's nothing like-*"

Sam put her hands to the side of her face, rocking her head back and forth. _"He's got a kid!"_

Carly just stopped and looked at her. A long, long look. Then Sam put her hands back down in her lap. "Okay, I'll stop. So. What was his secret, and why didn't you take it so well?"

Here went nothing. "Grif told me…and he was trying to be as honest and aboveboard about the whole thing as he could…that he's an angel."

Silence. Sam just looked at her. Then she reached forward, putting the backs of her fingers against Carly's forehead. "You don't have a fever…" She reached down and checked Carly's left eye a bit. "Pupils aren't dilated, and you're not flushed…."

"Sam! I'm perfectly fine! But I'm telling you the truth! He's an angel. A real, live, like fly-in-the-sky type angel.

"And, and that's where I came in. I couldn't believe it. I thought he was lying to me, trying to break up with me in some cowardly way. But he was just trying to, to protect me…and I ran him off. Again.

"Anyway, I was…okay, I was totaled. I couldn't understand why he'd just lie to me like that. And that's when I met his Aunt Maggie. And she showed me. She showed me all about…them. There…there wasn't any doubt." She turned to look at Sam. "So…my boyfriend's an angel. A literal angel."

Sam just sat there a moment, trying to take it all in. Had Grif hypnotized Carly, somehow? But just as she was about to speak, a tremendous thunderclap shook the entire building, dimming the lights momentarily. Sam jumped, slightly; although she wasn't afraid of thunder, the sheer suddenness of the sound made her react.

But Carly didn't jump at all, and Sam noticed that….narrowing her eyes at her best friend.

…

Saturday: Carly showed up at the apartment Grif currently lived in with his aunt. Regulations required him to move out as soon as he could, so some apartment hunting was in order, and she was determined to help him in this manner. Besides, there some things she wanted to pick his brain about. "So this is the first time you've apartment-hunted?"

"Yes. Previously, our apartment was decided upon for us by High Command; neither of us actually saw it until the day we took possession. So for me, this is a new experience. I rather look forward to it." He was looking up, his gaze traveling all around, eyes shining with expectation.

"Yeah, well, that's why I invited myself along. I'm not claiming to be Miss Know-It-All when it comes to apartment hunting, but I do know a few things to look for. And to look _out_ for. Now. Where is this place?"

The building had seen better days, but wasn't in such bad shape….for a run-down apartment complex. "Grif? Maybe we should talk what you can afford here. I mean, I don't know what your, uh…say, do you get, like, paid or something?"

"Well….sorta. It's complicated. Let's just say money usually isn't a problem, but I'm not in the 'house-hunting' range. Not yet, anyway."

"'Not yet'?" He just gave her a look out of the corner of his eye. _Ah, maybe that's something we'll need to talk about later…_ "Well, anyway. So, what's your price range here?"

He told her. "But it's more than that, Carly. Wherever I live has to have…I don't know how to explain it…a certain essence, an ambience. This place…" He nodded towards the shabby building, "feels right, or at least, some parts of it do."

"An ambience ? How's _that_ work?"

"Something of the Light must be here, or have been here in the recent past. You know, I told you about the Light? Not just electromagnetic radiation, but a kind of a spiritual Light."

"Yeah." She shuddered. "And you told me about this 'Darkness' that you'll be going into. Grif, I…I hate to think of you going into a place like that. From what you say, what most people call Hell would actually be an improvement."

He sobered, nodding. "It would be, Carly. And that's why I have to go there."

 _Subject for another time,_ thought Carly. "Well, anyway, one thing at a time. Let's go meet the manager."

Who proved to be a polite and business-like woman of about forty-seven, Carly guessed. Yes, references were required. Deposit: one month in advance…the usual contracts to sign. Utilities included in the rent, something Carly found pleasing. The rent wasn't as high as she'd thought it would be, but it certainly wasn't cheap, and it seemed as though utilities ought to be included, for that price.

"I realize this is hardly the most upscale complex in these parts," the woman said, "but it's really a very good building, very sound. And in an excellent neighborhood. I believe you and your husband will find it most satisfactory."

"Ah… _husband?_ Oh, wait…I'm afraid you…misunderstood. We're not married."

"I see. Well, then, I'm sure you and your _companion_ will be most pleased with the place…" And so forth, while Carly tried to clear up a nest of misunderstandings, most of which were more-or-less understandable.

Grif, meanwhile, had gone into the apartment in question. He had a list of things he needed to search out, and this list was in his mind, only.

He saw the first one hop out onto the counter top in the kitchenette area. He walked over to the rat. "Hello," he said.

Surprised, the rat looked up. _"Were you talking to me?"_

"Of course. How do you do?"

The rat looked up at him, its nose twitching as it tried to catch his scent. _"You're different than the others. How is it you can understand me? Or me, you?"_

"I'm an angel. It's part of my nature."

" _Oh. Well, er, how do you do."_ The rat was clearly nonplussed as to angel / rat protocol. It fussed around, cleaning its snout and whiskers, nervously.

"Quite well." Grif leaned against the countertop, relaxing a bit. "I'm going to be moving in here, shortly. I wanted to talk to you about some things. Some changes that'll need to be made."

The rat looked askance at him. _"Oh, no. You're going to be one of_ _those._ _"_

"One of those what?"

" _One of those who sets out poisons, and traps, and generally makes things hard for us. And, you. You can talk to animals. You'll probably bring in dogs. Yes, you will. I can just see it happening; my cousin the next building over told me about the dogs….vicious brutes they are. You'll end up kicking us all out into the street. Do you have any idea how cold it gets out there? Do you?"_

"Actually, I don't plan on doing any of those things. I don't see any reason why we both can't live here. But there will have to be some changes. Changes which will benefit us both. It'll just take a little cooperation on your part."

Another suspicious look. _"Such as?"_

"For starters, you'll have to keep out of sight when there's anyone else around. That shouldn't be a problem, now should it?

"And you'll have to leave the food alone. I can't have all of you going through the cupboards and turning the place inside out. I'll put out some food for you; make do with that."

The rat rocked back on its back feet, standing up on the countertop. Grif could hear the unbelief in its voice. _"'Leave the food alone'? But we're_ _rats!_ _"_

"Like I said, it will take a little cooperation. Come on, free place to live? Warm in the winter and cool in the summer? How can you turn that down?"

Still more suspicious looks. _"I get the impression you aren't done yet."_

"One more thing, and these are the only really non-negotiable items: perform your excretory functions outside, only."

" _Excre—* Hey, that was nicely put. But once again, we're_ _rats!_ _We can't do that!"_

"Do you really want to live in filth? Come on, now. And I said I'd feed you."

The rat thought, and thought hard. _"Free food?"_

"Free food."

" _Even…even peanut butter?"_

"Chunky or creamy?"

" _Creamy, always creamy. The nuts get caught in my teeth. Hm."_ The rat thought some more. Then, _"I'll have to run it past the others, but….it sounds good. And no dogs? What about snakes? No snakes, right?"_

Grif scowled. "I have my own reasons," he said, "for not wanting any snakes."

 _To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4: Darkness Rising

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives: Chapter 4: Darkness Rising

…..

 _I don't own iCarly. But it's a nice dream._

…

Chapter 4: Darkness Rising

Far, far up in the mountains, in the deep snows, a being known to angels and a few others as Snow Walker made his weary way back to his tribe's system of caverns. He anticipated a good fire and some rest for his weary, sore feet. Unfortunately, it was not to be.

His first hint that all was not well was when the tribal Mother, Home Carer, came out to meet him. Looking behind her, he could see a ragged band of his people, making their way down the mountain. "What is wrong?" he asked, in the tongue of his people.

"There is something in the home caverns. Something horrible, something dangerous. Three of our people went to investigate; none returned. We can sense it, however. It is a moving area of _wrongness_ ….you can see it approaching, sense it. It is…evil.

"Already the lower caverns are too dangerous for us. Now the wrongness is moving upward, into the upper caverns. We can do nothing but flee."

"I must see this thing."

"If you get too close, you will see more than you wish. But it will be as you will have it." She pointed upward towards the main cavern entrance. "We last spotted it in the middle third caverns. But where it is now, we do not know. If it is moving at the same speed as before, it may have reached the second level by now."

"Get the others to safety. I will go see this thing." And he trudged upward towards the entrance of the system of caverns that had been the Mountain People's home for so long….

As soon as he entered the cave entrance, he could tell something was wrong. There is a certain feeling that comes over people when things are just not right, when some unnatural is abroad. Snow Walker felt it now….had the wrongness reached this far already?

But no, his every sense told him that was not so, not yet.

Cautiously, his every sense focused on his surroundings, he carefully and slowly moved into the interior of the cavern. Home Carer had said it might have reached the second level by now, so it was with extra trepidation that he picked his way over the slight slope that led down into the lower caverns….

Immediately, he could feel it: something was here. Something…terrible. He could not see it, nor smell it, and his sense of hearing told him nothing, but he knew he was not alone there in the second level caverns. Every hair on his body stuck straight out, making him look bigger and more formidable, even as he knew that would have no effect on this….thing.

Was it intelligent? He couldn't tell. He saw no sign of those of the Mountain People who'd gone to investigate. He didn't doubt but that they were dead. At least, he hoped they were only dead.

Carefully, he backed out. His impression was that the thing, whatever it was, was… _waiting_ for something. Or perhaps simply planning its next move.

Or perhaps digesting a meal it just ate.

Softly, carefully, without so much as disturbing a single pebble, he made his way to the cavern entrance. Against his orders, Home Carer was there, waiting for him. "Why are you here? Who is caring for the tribe?"

"Loves to Cook is my understudy; she can do it quite well. All she has to do is lead the tribe to one of the lower caverns in an adjoining hill, and avoid being seen by the Hairless Ones. Well? Did you see it?"

He sat on the rock by her, passing a hand over his brow. Something told him he'd just had perhaps the narrowest escape of his entire long life. "There was nothing to see. I think it cannot be seen. But it is very, very real."

She put a hand on his arm. Strange; she had not actually touched him for many snows now. "Snow Walker, what will we do? This…this thing has run us out of our original home. We have others to go to, but what if it follows us there? Or others like it come there? What _is_ this thing, anyway, and what can we do about it."

He looked up. The fate of the tribe hinged on the decisions he'd make today. "What will we do? We will find a new home, at least for now. What is this, this thing? I will consult with Sees the Signs, see if he can tell me anything.

"But I do not believe it to be anything of this world. I believe it to be something of the Darkness."

…..

 _Personal journal: I'm getting moved in. Carly and her crew are a big help, even though I don't really need it. It helps me maintain appearances. I notice Sam giving me some odd looks. Carly probably told her, and she is waiting to get me alone, to demand an explanation._

 _That's always the way it is. There have been Ages, I understand, when we angels operated openly, and no one was surprised if one should announce oneself. But this is not one of those Ages, and we must operate in secrecy._

 _Finally, all my belongings are transferred to the small apartment. I've gone to the grocery store and made sure to get some peanut butter for the rats, creamy, as Mooger said. Carly is there when I come back, trying to put the finishing touches upon the place. I really hate to tell her, but it's no trick at all for me to simply rearrange the entire apartment with a thought. She wants to do a good thing._

 _Never turn down someone doing you a good deed, even if you can do better than they can. After all, they're doing what they're doing because they care. Never, ever turn down a caring act, an act of love. If you do, what do you have left?_

 _I put the groceries away. "Sam's giving me the eye," I tell her. "You told her, right?"_

 _Carly sighs. "Yeah. I don't think she believed me, though. I think she thinks you've somehow brainwashed me or something…"_

 _I pull her into an embrace. "I don't wanna wash your brain. I like it just the way it is: dirty thoughts and all."_

 _Her eyes widen. "Grif-FIN! Can you read my mind?"_

 _I laugh. Her expression is so priceless. "Not the way you think. But, Carly…all humans have 'dirty thoughts.' It keeps the species going. It's nothing to be ashamed of." I pull her in closer. "Frankly, I hope you_ _do_ _have a few dirty thoughts…especially about me. Not for right now, I know. But for the future."_

 _I don't think her face could get any redder. Poor thing; perhaps I went a bit overboard there….then I notice her attention is fixed on something behind me. I turn around, and there's my friend, the head rat, Mooger._

" _Hey, you. Angel. Gotta bit of a problem."_

" _Griffin?" Carly's voice is shaky, and she's gone from red-faced to extremely pale. "I…I think I'm losing my mind."_

" _What? Why do you say that?"_

 _Her attention is fixed on Mooger. "There's a rat. A real rat. A real, live rat. And, and I can hear it…talking." She puts her hands up to her face, runs her fingers through her hair, distraught._

 _I pull her in closer still, trying to reassure her. I honestly hadn't foreseen this. "You're not crazy. Carly, this is Mooger. He leads the rats that live here in the apartment. And you can hear and understand him because you're standing so close to me. It's a kind of resonance effect. I can understand him, so, as long as you're within a certain range of me, a certain physical range, you can, too."_

 _She looks up at me. "Rats can_ _talk_ _?"_

 _Mooger looks at the both of us. There's another rat, a smaller rat, hiding in the background. "This your mate? How many pups so far?"_

" _Ah, no, we're not exactly mates." Not yet, anyway, I think. "And, and no pups so far." Carly's face has gone from a shocked pale back to a lighter shade of red._

" _Why not?"_

" _It's complicated."_

" _Sounds_ _too_ _complicated. That's the trouble with humans: always overcomplicating simple things. We have a saying: 'why wait to mate? Life is short, so procreate!' Well, anyway. What I wanted to talk to you about." He turns and gestures with his head; the smaller rat comes out of hiding very reluctantly. "Stuffins, here, has something to talk to you about." He turned to the smaller rat. "Go on. Tell the angel what you told me."_

" _Uh, M-Mr. Angel, sir? Uh, th-there's, there's something in the basement we wish you'd come take a look at."_

" _What is it?"_

" _Uh, well, we…we just really wish you'd come take a look at it. Please?"_

" _Okay." I turn to Carly. "Up for a little expedition into the basement?"_

 _Carly's eyes have a strangely vacant look to them. "Sure," she says. "My boyfriend's an angel, I'm standing here talking to rats, and we're all going to the basement. Happens every day! Wheee!"_

 _I've a strong hunch I'm gonna have to do some damage control before the day is out._

 _To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5: Dreams, Part 1

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 5: Dreams, Part 1

….

 _I don't own iCarly. I wish I did. Uh, the show, not the girl._

… _.._

Chapter 5: Dreams, Part 1

Loves to Cook led the tribe down into the valley, using the back ways that were more difficult to see from a distance. Of course, there was always the chance that one of the hairless ones might be out this way hunting or simply out enjoying the outdoors. She could easily imagine that. She had a private fantasy about someday meeting one of the hairless ones and talking to it, finding out more about them. But the elders of her tribe had told her that the hairless ones could not talk, at least, not the speech of the Mountain people, so that was unlikely.

For about the hundredth time, she wondered what the wrongness could have been, that had so scared the elders. She herself hadn't seen, or sensed it, but just seeing how _disturbed_ the elders were, had been enough to shake her to the core. If it had that effect on people who were far more courageous than she was, she didn't _want_ to see it.

But just what _was_ it, anyway?

….

The basement: _"Through here, Mr. Angel."_ The rat, Stuffins, guided them both through a small doorway that was fastened with a padlock. Grif spoke a word, and the lock simply sprang open.

"Wow," said Carly. "You could make a fortune as a locksmith."

He stopped and thought. "You know, that's not a bad cover profession for me."

Stuffins led them into a small, cramped, and very dirty enclosure. The cold from outside was biting, but Carly was grateful for it. It seemed to keep some of the smell down. The place didn't exactly stink, but in summer it would probably be gruesome.

" _Here,"_ Stuffins said, gesturing with his snout at a figure lying on some old clothes.

The cat was very old, and one eye was swollen shut. Carly winced when she saw its scars. It was breathing intermittently, and Grif went over and knelt by it. It tried to raise its head, but failed, and lay back down, gasping with the effort.

" _We found him outside, and brought him in,"_ said Stuffins.

" _I told them not to, but pups never listen."_ This from Mooger.

" _Can you do anything, Mr. Angel?"_ Stuffins said, worriedly.

"Hm," said Grif. "This cat's primary problem is he's old. There's not much I can do about _that._ I can't grant immortality, or turn back the clock, at least, not like that. But maybe…" He stood up suddenly. Carly looked up at him, from where she'd crouched down beside the old kitty. "I'll be right back." With little more than a flash, he disappeared. In another flash, he was back. "This might help, somewhat." He held up a small silvery-looking flat metal box, twisting off the cover with a flourish. "This can heal almost any injury or disease. I've never tried it on anything like this, but I see no reason why it shouldn't work." He spread the balm over the old cat's body, rubbing it into the fur. Stuffins watched from the side, as did a small contingent of the rats there in the complex, watching from the shadows.

The assembled crowd watched, expectantly. Carly realized she was holding her breath. She glanced over at the rat called _Stuffins_ and saw honest worry on his bewhiskered face. A rat concerned about a cat?

The old cat's breathing became easier, and he raised his head. _"Better. Thank you."_ Carly wasn't surprised that she could understand him, too. But once she got used to the sheer strangeness of it all, she found it to be _awesome!_ Hey, she could _understand it when animals talked!_ How cool was that?

" _Mooger, don't you recognize this cat?"_ Stuffins had come over and placed a paw on the cat's leg.

" _Not…no, wait a minute. Is this Songer? I thought his people moved a year ago."_

" _They did,"_ replied Songer. _"But…I was left behind. Perhaps,"_ there crept a note of hope into the old cat's voice, _"Perhaps it was an accident. Perhaps they looked for me. I…don't know."_

" _Songer_ _? You've been out there, in the streets, ever since?"_

" _Yes. I…"_ The old cat made a gesture with his head, indicating his scars, _"Evidently, I lived a somewhat sheltered life….before. It…has not been easy."_

"Well, hold still," said Grif. "Let me get some of this over your eye." He applied the balm to the cat's nearly-swollen shut eye. Carly could see the healing process begin, the inflammation reducing, the scarring clearing up as the wounds, both new and old, were healed.

" _Well, alright,"_ said Mooger to Stuffins. _"I suppose I can see why you brought him in. He was always at least decent to us."_ To the human and the angel: _"Songer was one that never hunted us. We…got along."_

" _But now what, Mr. Angel?"_ Stuffins asked anxiously. _"Can Songer stay here? He, he really needs a place to go."_

" _Stuffins,"_ said Songer, _"I appreciate your concern, but you must remember, I am old. No matter what the angel has done, sooner or later, I will die. It's the way of all things."_

" _But you don't have to die_ _now_ _! And, and you don't have to die out there in the cold! Does he, Mr. Angel?"_

Carly knew Grif's answer even before he said it. He wouldn't be the angel she loved if he'd said anything different. "Of course he can stay. I'll just add some cat food to my grocery list." He turned to Songer. "You're welcome to stay with me, Songer."

" _Thank you, angel. It…it feels good to have a home, again."_

Carly's smile widened into a full-facial grin. This whole "talking to animals thing" was downright awesome!

…..

"Ah, I don't think I should go…" But Carly didn't sound convinced, even to herself.

"Oh, come on, Carls. It's only overnight." Sam smirked. "You'll be back in Griffin's arms day after tomorrow." Carly flushed.

"It's not that, well, not totally…" How could she explain to her best friend that her angel boyfriend was getting ready for his first, and hopefully not his last, foray into the frightening concept they called "the Darkness"? Sam didn't even believe he was an angel; she sure wouldn't believe _that._ And although Carly knew there was absolutely nothing she could do to help if anything went wrong, she still felt as though she should be here. What if something happened to him, and she was a hundred miles away?

"It's not like we get the chance to visit Socko's uncle every day. And you know he lives in that condo…pretty upscale, I hear. Even got a Jacuzzi, hot tub, entire spa. Wouldn't you love to just settle in to one of those, an' just let all the tension fade away?" Sam was being her most persuasive. Carly saw through some of it: Even as she and Griffin had grown closer together, Sam had been feeling a little left out. So she was proposing an "old gang" weekend for the group. Just like old times.

In the back of her mind, Carly wondered, from that perspective, precisely where her relationship with Griffin was going. Were they thinking in terms of life-long commitments (read: _marriage_ )? And just what _was_ a lifelong commitment for an angel, anyway? Grif had implied that he might not be immortal any longer…but that didn't mean he only had a normal human lifespan to live. He could very easily live for….a very long time, indeed. "Well, okay. I guess it is just one weekend. Grif can get along without me for that long, I'm sure." _And besides, he's an angel. He can be with me in an instant, no matter how far away I am._

"That's the spirit! And you'll see. We're gonna have one _damn_ fine weekend!"

Carly jumped just a little. Almost like being pricked with a pin, she didn't really notice it.

But Sam did, and her eyes narrowed as she watched her best friend flip through the TV channels.

…..

"…telling you, _there is no other explanation!"_ Dr. Phillips was practically shouting. His colleague and friend, Dr. George Weston, was trying to calm him down.

"Okay, okay. Let's not go ballistic on ourselves here. Okay. Your _hypothesis,_ " he emphasized the word, "your _hypothesis_ is that something happened to this thing, this timer, to _stop time_ …for it. Am I right so far?"

Phillips shook his head tiredly. He was getting tired of trying to explain this to his friend. If even his colleague, who knew as much about the case as he did, still wasn't convinced,, what chance did he have of getting the message across to the hardnoses, the upper brass? Yeah, give 'em something they could sink their teeth into, some rational explanation.

What if there wasn't one? "You don't understand. I'm not just saying, ' _something_ happened to it. I'm saying, _someone_ happened to it."

"Right. Who?"

"That's what I can't figure. But, look, George…these terrorists plant this bomb, okay? Intentions obvious. It's planted in a public place, again for pretty much self-explanatory reasons. And it doesn't go off. It doesn't go off for a reason we can't fathom. Don't you see that just couldn't be coincidence?"

"You're saying someone—some person, some human—came along and stopped it."

"Person? Yes. Human? Don't make me laugh. Humans just don't have this…this….ability, technology, whatever you wanna call it. But yeah, some person."

"Like who? E.T., maybe?"

Phillips leaned back in his chair. "What if I said yes? Would you say I was ready for the nuthatch?"

Weston sighed. "No, Carl. I don't think you're crazy. But you have been obsessing over this timer thing ever since it came to our attention. Maybe…maybe you should take some time off from it. It might help you…."

"You're still thinking the old way, George. You're thinking it's gotta be something, either something man-made, or just an accident. Well, how would an accident explain _this?_ " He held up a sheaf of reports, all on the apparent indestructability of the little timer. " _There isn't any. None._ And nobody on Earth has the 'man-made' skills to basically _stop time._ Or do you know of something I don't?"

"So you _are_ saying E. T."

"I'm saying….let's request those security videos of that area, right before the bomb was reported. See who was nearby. Who…or what."

 _To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6: First Casualties

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives: Chapter 6: First Casualties

…

 _I don't own iCarly. If I did, it would still be playing._

 _..._

 _"No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy."_

-Military truism

… _.._

Chapter 6: First Casualties

On the way to Socko's uncle's condo, Carly still worried. What if something went wrong?

She tried to soothe her own fears. Grif was a grown, er, angel. He knew what he was getting into. True, maybe there was some danger, but he'd promised not to take any chances, and, of course, being an angel, had to take his promises seriously. This first foray was more of a recon mission that an actual rescue mission.

And, anyway, what could possibly happen to him that he, and, if necessary, his Aunt Maggie couldn't handle? Carly had seen the kind of power the Host of the Dominion, the Lordships, Maggie and Grif's host, wielded. And his Uncle Jemiah…Carly didn't think a comet strike would be any problem for _him_.

On the other hand, _would_ Uncle Jemiah do anything? Maggie had said that even the Host of the Seraphim, Jemiah's Host, didn't venture into the Darkness all that casually themselves. She hoped Jemiah hadn't decided to let his errant nephew simply suffer the consequences of his own, in his opinion, unwise decisions.

But there was always that troubling possibility.

….

 _I prepare myself as well as I can. I've only heard about the Darkness, and encountered it only in its manifestations here on Earth. I realize that none of this will truly prepare me for the horror I will face. But I must be brave. There are many souls dependent on me remaining true to my vow._

 _What kind of angel would I be, were I to turn and walk away now? I couldn't live with myself, knowing that so many were suffering terribly, and I stood by and did nothing._

 _But I have to admit, I wonder why none of the other angels have ever attempted this before. Perhaps they knew something I do not._

 _I find that possibility troubling._

 _I'm almost glad Carly is away for the weekend. She would want to be here, in the apartment with me, as I make my first journey into a place, a state of being that has terrified every sentient being in all the cosmos. No, this will be just me. Just a fast in-and-out. Just to see what I'm up against._

 _I Stand in the middle of the apartment, gathering myself. Even though I am Standing, for once I Stand alone, the electric cyclone swirling around me. I must prepare myself for…for anything._

 _And then…with a flicker of perception, I follow my tendril that leads downwards, into the ultimate horror…._

 _Strange. I had always been told there was nothing here, no light, certainly no Light, no hope, nothing. But in some strange way, I see a battlefield. Nothing grows in it, and I can see countless bodies lying twisted and broken, some in one color uniform, some in another, but most in the basic color of all fallen soldiers everywhere: the brownish red of dried blood._

 _I scan the area, searching outward cautiously. There are things here, after all, it would seem, and it would be unwise to challenge them without knowledge. And then I hear a groan from the ground beneath me._

" _H-help me…" The voice is barely a whisper, but I can hear it clearly in the eerie silence of this tomb of a battlefield._

 _I scan for the source of the voice. There; a youngish-seeming man, in a brown uniform. His features are unremarkable, save for the pain evident in his eyes. I drift downward towards him. "Who are you?" I ask. "What is your name?" This is more important that it sounds; too long in the Darkness and it is quite easy to forget one's previous existence altogether._

" _D-Devin. Devin Boscovitch. I….where am I? What is this place?" There's horror in his voice, as he looks around the quiet battlefield, that I'm sure he remembers a different way._

" _My name is Gryphon. I'm here to help."_

" _I'm so cold. Why am I so cold?" There is nothing here, in this eternal void, no light, no heat…nothing._

 _I approach him. I take nothing for granted, of course. "Let me help."_

" _You…you can help me?"_

" _If you will let me. Come; take my hand." I extend my hand._

" _You can help me! You really can help me! All I need is YOUR HOT ANGEL BLOOD!" And the creature I had been talking to morphs into a monster too hideous for words to describe, and leaps at me…._

… _straight into the annihilation field I projected with the same hand I offered in friendship and rescue. Within less than a flicker, it is no more._

 _As I said, I am under no illusions about this place, nor its denizens._

… _._

Dr. Phillips and Weston reviewed the security footage, searching for the right time stamp. They had a pretty good idea as to when the…"incident," as Phillips called it, had happened. Now all they had to do was run the video loop forward, focusing the image enhancing software on the area around column where the briefcase had been found.

They saw a scruffy looking but otherwise completely nondescript man venture along, carrying the briefcase. He stopped, looked at his watch, stood there for a few minutes, continuing to glance at his watch, the very picture of a man waiting for his wife or children to join him at a preplanned rendezvous.

Finally, he put the briefcase down, glancing around, and walked softly away. The two scientists zoomed in on the scan of his face. "Here. The guy who left the bomb. There's a good description of him; send it out, see if we can't find the bastard." Phillips spoke without a trace of emotion; he was too interested in what was going to happen next.

Minutes passed. Then, two people approached, the young man looking around in an almost theatrical way, as though trying to appear to be searching for something. But something about his attention, the way he walked, the way he stood, told the two his real attention was focused on the briefcase.

There was no sound pickup, of course, but he zeroed in on the briefcase, seeming to examine it. The girl who was with him appeared to be urging him to leave, pulling at his arm. He half-turned to her, and nodded in acknowledgement. Then—and here Phillips hunched over the monitor as though he could zoom in with his own naked eyes—the young man in the black leather motorcycle jacket passed his right hand over the briefcase, then turned and allowed the girl to lead him away, out of the camera's range. The two noticed the time stamp on the footage.

Phillips leaned backward, a look of triumph on his face. "Okay. Explain _that._ "

"I don't get it. He didn't _do_ anything…"

"But he did. And look: look at this." Phillips ran the footage again, once again zeroing in on the couple. "See how her face is distinct? Relatively, I mean?" Carly's face stood out in the paused loop. "But look at him." A brief tweak of the monitor, and the camera zeroed in on Grif. His features were blurred, out of focus. "Her features, her face,-clear. Standard security cam clear, I mean. But his? He was _right next to her but we can't see him as well._ Now, why is that?"

"Alright! Alright!" Weston threw up his hands in despair. "You win! So this guy is…is who? Or should I be asking, _what?"_

Phillips chewed on a knuckle. "Either question…is appropriate." A pause. "But…perhaps we should also be asking, who is _she?_ "

…..

From the top floor of the Columbia Center building in downtown Seattle, Jemiah watched an approaching thunderstorm. He saw it, but his vision was capable of seeing so much more…

He saw his young nephew as he made his first foray into a place that was not a place, that was the ultimate terror for all those who were self-aware enough to even have a hint of its existence. It was not for nothing that the angels had been detailed to guard and secure the world known as Earth, a designation that meant so much more than just the mere planet. It was not for nothing that they were called upon to defend a world that, for the most part, didn't even believe in them.

And, in some cases, those who did believe were the very ones who were the most dangerous.

He saw his nephew destroy the creature down below, commending him silently. Good; Grif was not some innocent, going into open warfare with open arms and good intentions. He knew there would be that which was arrayed against him.

He allowed his senses to range outward, surpassing every sense and sensor known or even suspected by man. Maggie; He saw her sitting in her apartment, watching Grif, biting her lip, clearly worried. He smiled. This was natural.

He allowed his senses to range over the world of humans. Jemiah could see the world of human communications, see what was being spoken, listened to, transmitted, broadcast and secure alike. Nothing was hidden from him. Nothing could be.

And he saw Drs. Phillips and Weston reviewing the security footage of the Comic-con, where Grif had, in his opinion, so unwisely interfered. This could be…problematical.

And he saw the Mountain People, driven from their home cave by an unnamable _something_ , saw their weary trek across the Oregon countryside. That incident would bear looking into.

With hardly more than a thought, he sent his thoughts winging their way towards Aunt Maggie. _{{Margaret? I have discovered something that needs to be looked into. Are you familiar with the Mountain People?}}_

Gryphon's Aunt Maggie jumped just a little. She'd been so deeply concerned about Grif's first foray into the Darkness that she was startled by the communication. _{{Y-yes, Grif has told me that his Carly and her friends encountered one, not that long ago.}}_

 _{{This is in the vicinity of that, and involves the same group.}}_ He proceeded to send her his information on the _wrongness_ that Snow Walker and Home Carer had dealt with. _{{I need you to acquire more information about this 'wrongness.' Is it truly something from the Darkness? If so, this is unprecedented._

 _{{Do not, repeat, do not attempt to engage it one on one. Not without more information. Investigate and report back to me.}}_ He didn't have to add, "ASAP;" angels seldom had reason to wait to do anything, unless so ordered.

 _{{Yes, Jemiah. I will go there now.}}_

Home Carer and Snow Walker were making their own weary way down the mountain, to rejoin their people, when a bright flash signaled the arrival of Maggie. She inspected the two in front of her, noticed the air of weariness and fear in them both. _{{I am Margaret, of the Host of the Dominion. It has come to our attention that you are troubled. Please let me help.}}_

Snow Walker and Home Carer were surprised by this visitation, but their own legends were quite clear. This was one of the guardians, one of the Powers delegated to safeguarding sentient beings, wherever they were. They replied in the speech of their people, as they knew no other. "Yes. We have been driven from our home caves by…something we cannot understand. I myself sought to investigate it," said Snow Walker, "but…" And here, he looked downward, embarrassed.

Maggie understood. For all these years, Snow Walker and the members of his tribe had been able to handle their problems, of which there were, as is usually the case with intelligent beings, many. But they had coped. In an ever-increasingly hostile world, they had coped. Now they had encountered something not in their experience, something they could not handle or understand. And something that caused them to fear.

To a proud people, to call this "embarrassing" was a profound understatement.

Maggie clasped her hands in front of her, as a gesture of respect. _{{I understand. If it is alright with you, I will go to these caves, see if I can sense anything that may tell us more about these matters that trouble us all.}}_

"You…you may certainly do so, Mighty One. But please…do be careful yourself. I do not know what this thing is, but I know it is not to be approached lightly."

 _{{I will be careful. Now, go. Rejoin your people. Perhaps this matter can be resolved quickly.}}_

Maggie approached mouth of the cave the Mountain People had just vacated with a huge sense of justifiable caution. Whatever had scared Snow Walker and his people out was certainly something out of the ordinary, and deserved a certain amount of carefulness.

Almost immediately, she was almost overcome by the sense of _wrongness_ that had so intimidated Snow Walker, only a thousand times worse. Even with her Sight, she could see almost nothing, just a formless, shapeless mass filling most of the cave. Instinctively, she raised her hands, preparing to Speak….

….and was struck such a violent blow that it sent her reeling out of the cave, and falling down the mountainside.

 _I have just returned from my first exploratory trip into the Darkness. It has proven to be educational, in a discouraging sort of way._

 _The only living being I saw was the monster I destroyed. I had been told that there were creatures in the Darkness, but to be confronted with one was a sobering experience. And I had seen nothing else there; no souls in limbo, no one else…_

 _{{Gryphon!}} The call comes through loudly, reinforced by distress. It's Aunt Maggie._

 _She's been hurt._

 _I'm there in less than a nanosecond, there at the bottom of the slope of the mountainside from whence she fell. A few hundred feet away are some of the Mountain People, looking on anxiously. I bend down, brushing her hair away from her face. She is clearly in pain, or what passes for pain in us. "Maggie! What's wrong? Tell me! What can I do?"_

 _One of the Mountain People joins us. I recognize him; it's the one they call Snow Walker. "Is she…hurt?" He cannot, of course, hear our private communication._

 _{{Yes,}} I tell him, this time modulating the frequency to make it discernable to him, {{yes, she has been.}} Maggie shudders violently in my arms; I can sense her fighting off the hostile influence that has done this._

 _But will she be successful?_

" _She went to investigate a wrongness in the caves where we lived. We told her to be careful. I believe the Darkness to be behind it."_

 _{{That's quite possible. I must take her home now.}} I look around, seeing what has transpired. {{Take your people and get far away from this place. As far as you can.}} Snow Walker shifts nervously at the undercurrent in my voice. I lift Maggie up, preparing to depart. But I cast one last glance at the peak from which she fell. I myself can sense that my expression is not a pleasant one. {{As far as I am concerned, this thing has just declared war on the Host of the Dominion.}}_

 _To be continued…_


	7. Chapter 7: The Wings of War

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives: Chapter 7: The Wings of War

…

 _I don't own iCarly._

… _.._

Chapter 7: The Wings of War

Carly glanced worriedly out the window of the high-rise condo. The storm was getting closer, and it looked to be a bad one. Although thunder and lightning no longer bothered her like they used to, she was still concerned about the sheer physical aspects of the storm. Would there be high winds? Flash flood warnings?

And over and above all that, something was nagging her….something beyond the physical. Something she knew only she could sense.

For the fourth time, she tried to ring Grif's number, only to have the call go straight to voice mail. Either he wasn't back yet, or the storm was interfering with telecommunications in some way.

At least, she hoped that was all it was.

…..

 _{{Jemiah? Maggie has been hurt.}} My thoughts are barely recognizable even to myself. I have taken Maggie back to my apartment, and placed her on the couch in the living room. The rats look on from the shadows, and Songer moves in closer, to inspect her, moving slowly due to his age._

 _I have never felt this way before. Someone I care for has been struck down by an unseen, uncaring force. There is something seething within me, something hotter that the interior of stars I have flown through, because it comes from within._

 _Suddenly Uncle Jemiah is there, appearing out of the usual electrical-seeming flash. He ignores me and my animal entourage and kneels beside Maggie, touching her face. I know his touch is more than just a mere physical contact; something of him goes into her, helps her. {{Margaret? Margaret, can you hear me?}} I have never seen Uncle Jemiah act so… meticulous and controlled. Then I realize: he, too, is restraining his own anger. Something has struck down one of our own. That something must pay. And knowing Jemiah as I do, I cannot believe but that it will pay dearly indeed._

 _Family is family._

 _I finally notice my cell phone ringing. Such was my distress earlier that I hadn't even noticed the chiming. Whatever happened to the calm, carefree angel, aware of everything, prepared for anything, that I used to be?_

 _Simply put, and to use the human phrase, I "totally lost it."_

 _{{Answer it, Angel Gryphon. It is your love calling you. Right now, you both need to hear the sound of each other's voices.}} Uncle Jemiah is wise, as always. I switch on the cell. "Hello, Carly."_

" _Grif! What's wrong? And don't say nothing! I can tell from the sound of your voice something's wrong!"_

 _I take a deep, calming breath. "Yes, Carly, you are right. I-*"_

" _Are you alright?"_

 _Another breath. Perhaps she'll let me finish this time. "Yes, Carly, I'm fine. But Aunt Maggie is not. She has suffered an…attack. She's hurt." I glance over at Uncle Jemiah, hoping to see some sign from him that Maggie will be okay, but he is still focusing his attention on the still form of my aunt._

 _I hear Carly's gasp over the phone. "Griffin! Is…is…she alright?"_

" _I don't know yet. Uncle Jemiah is here. Uncle Jemiah?" I ask in spoken English so Carly can hear, "Is Aunt Maggie going to be alright?"_

 _He nods, but his expression is sober. "What she was hit with was far more than any ordinarily powerful blow. Quite… unexpected, indeed. Gryphon," he turns to me. "This is an occasion when you, as Earth's guardian, must summon the Host of the Dominion. This beast must be found and judged. But first, it must be stopped. Stopped before it harms anyone else."_

 _I know Carly can hear us over the line. "Carly? I'm going to have to call you back." I take a deep breath. "It looks like I'm about to get into a fight."_

Miles away: Drs. Phillips and Weston were sitting in front of a monitor. "There. No doubt about it: the girl is Carly Shay. She's been all over the internet, has that webcast. My niece worships her; my nephew also worships her for, er, a different reason."

"So all we have to do is…what? Bring her in? Can we do that?"

"Oh, we probably _could._ But there's other factors to consider. One, she might be actually unaware of any strange goings on. Remember, she was trying to get him away from there. If he did anything, it didn't look like she knew anything about it.

"And two, _should_ we bring her in? I mean, on what grounds? 'Excuse us, Ms. Shay, but we have reason to believe your friend stopped time in a localized area, thereby preventing the deaths of hundreds of people?'" He shook his head. "How do you suppose _that_ would go over?"

"So what are you recommending?"

"For now-*" But he was interrupted by a loud claxon sounding down the hallway. " _Damn._ Now what's that?"

"That" turned out to be an EM surge warning. "I thought you said this system was stormproof!" Phillips scolded the tech on duty. To the southeast, the thunderstorm continued to build.

"It _is_ , sir! We've got all the safeguards in place, everything hardened, even. You know we upgraded during that last crisis. This is…something else…."

"What?"

The tech fiddled with his screen, triangulating on and isolating the EM spikes. "These readings _can't_ be right…"

"Screw right. Tell me what it's saying."

"It seems to be saying there are six small nodes of high electromagnetic emissions, circling about Mount Adams. I can't pin 'em down…maybe they're reflections or sundogs or something like that…"

Phillips and Weston glanced at each other. Yeah. Sundogs. Reflections of normal phenomena off the clouds. Well, it could be. "Can you do anything towards pinpointing those sources?"

"They…they seem to be coming from high in the atmosphere, but circling around Mt. Adams. It's not part of the storm, sir; I don't know what it is."

Phillips straightened up. "Keep recording, and also scan the ground area. Anything out of the ordinary."

…..

"Carly, you're not even _trying_ to have a good time! What's wrong? You can tell me." The two were in the suite designated for the women in their group, at the condo. Carly was sitting over by the window, actually on the windowsill, looking off towards the southeast. "You can't understand, Sam. Grif's in trouble, or about to be. And Aunt Maggie has been hurt."

"Hurt? How?"

"I don't know, and I don't think Grif really knows how, either. But, but…."

"Does this have something to do with what you told me about, the other day, about Grif being an angel?" She put her hands on her hips and scowled.

"Yes, yes it does. Something hurt his aunt, and now he's going full throttle on it. And here I am, hundreds of miles away. I feel so _helpless,_ Sam!"

Sam came over and knelt beside her. "Look. Carls. I don't know anything about this 'angel' business, but, but even if you were right there, no matter what, what could you do?"

Carly sniffled and wiped her eyes with a crumpled up Kleenex. "You don't believe he's an angel, do you?"

"Whether I do or don't, that's pending proof, for me. But no matter what, if he's out there…" Sam gestured towards the southeast. "What really could you do? In fact, it might be a good idea that you're here; you're out of any line of fire, so to speak. He probably doesn't need any distraction.

"So for right now, just try to take it easy. It'll all keep. Now c'mon. That hot tube awaits."

…

 _From the southwest, Samael, fresh from the beach. From the northeast Remial, a bit perturbed because he happened to be enjoying a very good Chinese buffet. Adriel, from the southeast, where she'd been attending a baseball game in Florida; the northwest brings us Seraphiel. He and Adriel often argue the merits of their favorite teams. The direct north brings us the loner Zophiel. And I complete our six._

 _The six of us stand in the air over Mt. Adams, our attention focused on the cave where Aunt Maggie was hurt. The creature, or whatever you wished to call it, has not moved; it is still there at the entrance way._

 _None of us can truly make out what it is. Even with our Sight, there is little to see. Perhaps, I speculate, it is an actual_ _piece_ _of the Darkness itself? Is that possible?_

 _If it is, all worlds are in danger. Everywhere._

 _{{Angel Gryphon. We await your commands.}} Adriel, as always, stands ready. I have never seen her in a relaxed mode. She is the epitome of the words "battle ready." I'm glad she's on my side._

 _{{We must seal off the area, prevent the creature, thing, whatever it is, from leaving. Adriel! Establish a barrier about this creature, extending into the caverns!}}_

 _{{I hear and obey.}} All at once, a wall of light comes into being, encircling the mountain top in a kind of collar. The barrier extends into the rock itself; there'll be no slithering back the way it came for this monster._

 _{{Now,}} I command, {{Samael. Backtrack the creature, see if you can tell how it got here, and what, precisely, it is.}}_

 _Samael complies. Even though I suffered a reduction in rank when I became Earth's guardian angel, I am recognized as being the one responsible for the safety of this world, and for being the one in charge when it comes to extranormal invasions. And, to paraphrase the Earthly comic book saying, "With great responsibility comes great Power."_

 _He shakes his head. "Nothing. I can't tell anything about how it got here…only the first sign of its arrival. Nobody was performing any tests, no teenagers trying to raise the devil or anything. All of sudden, it was just there."_

 _{{Then if there's nothing to be learned, it is time}}, I tell them. {{Adriel, stand firm. The rest of you, be on guard for other manifestations.}} And I suddenly fly down to the very cave mouth in which the monster sits._

 _{{Angel Gryphon!_ _What_ _are you doing?}} Adriel sounds aghast._

 _I fly right up to the creature, a formless, ever shifting mass of something, see that it notices me, and prepares to strike…._

… _.and I Speak._

 _Without warning, the entire mountain top erupts in fire, as though the volcano Mt. Adams used to be suddenly became active. There is no lava flow or pyroclastic gases, as would normally be the case in an eruption. But the blast alone can be felt as far away as…._

The laboratory: Every single light in the place went out. " _What_ the _hell!_ " Weston fumbled around for something, anything, to lean against, searching his pockets for mini-flashlight he had on his keychain. It didn't work half the time, but maybe it'd work this time.

The emergency generators kicked in, and power was restored. "Okay. What in holy hell was that?"

The tech on duty fiddled with his controls. "Sir, it appears that the entire top of Mt. Adams just blew sky-high. I'm not reading any ongoing seismic or electromagnetic influences; it appears to be stable. I-I can't understand it, sir. There was no indication of any volcanism. Just blooey."

Weston and Phillips looked at each other. "Just blooey, huh? Okay. What about those EM nodes?"

"No reading, sir. But that may be due to the sheer force of the blast….I can't understand it."

….

 _I rejoin the other angels high overhead as we oversee what has transpired. I am somewhat spent, emotionally. Adriel comes up to me, concern etched upon her countenance. She and I are old comrades. {{Gryphon? Are you alright?}}_

 _{{Yes, Adriel. I am fine.}} I see the question in her eyes and mind. {{This thing, whatever it was, hurt my aunt. And regardless of all else, it had to be destroyed. I felt it was my responsibility as protector of the Earth.}}_

 _{{It was more than that,}} she tells me, even as the others prepare to return to their lives amidst the mortals. She knows me too well for any obfuscation. {{Why did you fly down, practically in the thing's face? What did you hope to learn by so doing?}}_

 _I cannot, of course, lie to her. Even were we completely human, she just simply knows me too well. I turn to her. {{I was not interested in seeing the beast's face, Adriel.}} I pause. There is no help for it; I must confess the whole truth to her. I look her in the eyes. {{I wanted_ _it_ _to see_ _mine_ _.}}_

 _Upon hearing my words, she starts, recoiling away from me, her hand going to her mouth in an expression of complete surprise. This puzzles me, until I notice: another line of potential, a tendril, has sprung from the crown of my head…._

… _..and curved downward, into Darkness._

…..

Nearly a hundred miles away, Carly was watching the news, and chewing on her lip. _"And this just in. Apparently, the dormant volcano Mt. Adams wasn't as dormant as everyone thought."_ The report showed cell phone footage of the aftereffects of the blast. It had happened too quickly to get any footage of the actual explosion, but the expanding mushroom cloud was terrifying enough. _"Our reporter on the scene, Deborah Hankins, has more. Deborah?"_

" _Yes, John. Everyone here, just a few miles from the mountain itself, was completely taken by surprise. I've spoken with several volcanologists, and they all agree this was no normal eruption. For one thing, there was no forewarning. None. Always, when a volcano becomes active, there's some indication of seismic activity prior to the actual eruption. This came completely out of the blue. As you can see, behind me,"_ here, she turned and gestured towards the shattered peak, now barely visible in the gathering darkness. The clouds overhead exchanged lightning, electrical charges meeting and neutralizing each other, _"whatever happened appears to be over with. We've got satellite photos that indicate no further activity. It's almost as though someone set off a huge bomb. It went off, now it's over with. There's no sign of radioactivity. It's fortunate that that area of the mountain was uninhabited. The experts disagree as to what actually happened…."_

Sam joined her, slamming the door behind her. "I'm sorry, Carly. I never would'a thought Socko's cousin would make a pass at you like that. I mean, that's like, so _juvenile_ …." She noticed Carly's riveted attention to the TV. "What's going on?"

Carly spoke as if in a dream. " _He said he was about to get into a fight_."

"Whoa. Wait a minute. What're we talking about again?" Wordlessly, Carly gestured to the TV, still running the late-breaking news about the events on Mt. Adams. "Wait. What is this? What are you talking-*"

But Carly had crumpled to the floor in a dead faint.

 _To be continued…_


	8. Chapter 8: Collateral Damage

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 8: Collateral Damage

…

 _I don't own iCarly, natch. Oh, but if only…._

… _._

Chapter 8: Collateral Damage

The weekend ended, and Carly and company returned to Seattle. Carly still seemed shaken; Sam looked at her with concern. What had happened back there?

She'd seen the news reports about the eruption of Mt. Adams, but it had seemed to affect Carly on a personal level. "Carls? What did you mean, when you said 'he was about to get into a fight'? Did you mean Grif?"

Carly nodded. Freddie had returned back to his apartment, the one he shared with his mother, and Spencer had, of course, charged upstairs, inspired, he said, by the cataclysm on the news.

But Sam was more worried about her friend. Carly was visibly shaken. "C'mon, Carls. You can't possibly think Grif had something to do with…that." She gestured to the TV, referring to the news report.

"I..I, I don't know. All I know is, he said Aunt Maggie had been hurt, and then…he said he was about to get into a fight." She sat on the couch, her arms wrapped around her, hugging herself.

"Carls, that's ridiculous. I mean, come on. I can see, if Maggie's been hurt…but how do you connect that with that explosion?"

"I think Grif did it. He, he sounded pretty upset."

"Now, Carls. You can't possibly think _Griffin_ did _that._ "

Carly looked at her. "You don't believe he's an angel, do you?"

"No, not really. But you seem to. I don't know what he's done to you, but he's sure got you convinced. But Carly, _he's not an angel. All that's just in your head_." At that exact moment, the doorbell rang.

"That's him," breathed Carly, jumping up, to answer the door, before Sam could stop her.

Griffin was indeed on the other side of the door. "Hey, Carly." He looked closely at her. "Are you alright?" He moved into the apartment, taking her in his arms. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?! _What's wrong?!_ " Sam was livid. "What's _wrong_ is, you've brainwashed Carly into thinking you're an, an angel! And now she's coming apart at the seams! What kind of monster _are_ you?"

Griffin picked Carly up, and took her over to the couch. Sat down beside her and held her tightly. Why _was_ she acting this way? He didn't know. "I'm not a monster, Sam. I told Carly I'm an angel, and I'm telling you. Why is that so hard for you to believe?" He held Carly close, as though to warm her up. She was shivering, slightly.

"Because there's no such-* I mean, _that's nonsense!_ "

"You started to say, 'there's no such thing as angels.' Do you really believe that?"

"Whether I do or whether I don't, _you're not one!_ And look what you've done to Carly!" Carly was just then coming to any degree of control.

"Carly," Grif asked softly, "What's wrong?"

"I—I thought….I thought…what happened to Maggie?"

Grif sighed, ignoring an ever-increasingly angry Sam for the moment. "She went to investigate a…strangeness. Something….I don't know what it was, but it lashed out at her unexpectedly. She got hit with something way more than physical. Uncle Jemiah said this was exactly what I'd promised to do, so I summoned the other of the Host of the Dominion and, and blew it sky high. It's gone." He paused. "But I guess it was pretty spectacular."

" _Will you stop lying to her!"_ Sam shouted. She looked like she was about to physically attack Grif.

Griffin again spoke to Carly. "Are you okay now? Problem's gone, everything's okay. No one else hurt. Aunt Maggie may have to go back home for renewal, however, but she'll be fine. You okay, now?" Carly smiled weakly. _Why is this affecting her so strongly?_ Grif wondered. Well, perhaps he'd figure it out.

He turned to Sam. "I'm getting a little tired of this. You don't believe I'm an angel. You want proof?"

"Yeah. Do something. Have you got wings? Let's see 'em."

"That wouldn't be wise in this small a space. But I can show you one never-fails test for angel-hood." He got up, went over to the printer, took a piece of copy paper. "The paper test."

Sam had followed him into the corner of the room by the breakfast bar. "The paper test?" Carly looked on, curious herself. She'd being going with Grif for some time now, but she'd never heard of the "paper test."

"Here." He handed the sheet of paper to Sam, moving over to the flat tiling of the kitchenette. "Slide this sheet of paper under my feet."

Sam looked at him as if he were crazy. "Slide this piece of paper? What's that gonna prove?"

"Just do it. You'll see."

She bent down, all the while keeping her guard up. This guy could be dangerous. If he'd somehow hypnotized her best friend into thinking he was an angel, who knew what else he might be capable of?

She slid the paper across the faux wooden tiling, right up to the toes of his boots. "Now what?"

"Like I said, slide it under my feet."

"It won't go, you're standing on the floor."

"Just try. What have you got to lose?" He waited exactly one beat. "Or are you afraid of being convinced?"

Angered further, Sam slid the paper right up to Grif's work boots—and stared as the paper slid effortlessly underneath his boots. She rubbed her eyes and looked again. The paper was still there, still under Grif's feet. She moved it. It slid back and forth, out and in. It was like Grif wasn't even standing there. But he clearly was. "Okay, that's a neat trick. How do you do it? Magnets?"

"Nope. No magnets. Here." He took some paperclips from the desk. "Magnets attract metal, don't they?" And he dropped the paperclips onto the floor around his boots.

Nothing. They just sat there, littering the floor.

"Okay…" Carly was the first to break silence, "w-what…I mean, how…?"

Griffin bent down and picked up the paperclips. "It's a part of my essential nature, and the nature of all angels, that we cannot touch the Earth. That extends into apartment floorings. I can eat fruits and vegetables that come from the Earth, but I cannot touch the Earth itself."

"Well, Sam?" Carly turned to her friend. "How, exactly, would you explain that?"

Sam had to admit to herself, that was…pretty…convincing? "O-okay. So, so maybe you're…."

"And _please_ don't get started with 'alien,' or 'mutant,' or, 'time traveler,' or, or 'time traveling mutant alien,' or whatever else you may be thinking of. I'm an angel, Sam. And we're nothing at all like you were taught, or led to believe."

Carly took over, with Sam still trying to figure out an alternative explanation. "But what about Maggie? You said she'd…have to go home? For, for what?"

"She took a pretty hard hit. She may need renewal. But she'll be alright. It takes a great deal to harm one of us. Unfortunately, she encountered that, up there on Mr. Adams."

"What was it?"

"I don't know." He moved back into the main living area, sat on the couch by her. "I've a theory that it might have been an actual piece of the Darkness itself. You know, while none of us are really sure, one line of conjecture among us is that the Darkness is a live thing. A thing that absorbs energy, life, matter, hopes and dreams. I hope I'm wrong, but if that's what it was, things…could get pretty bad here."

"'Pretty bad'? Like how 'pretty bad'?"

He looked grim. "Armageddon bad."

….

Sam went home shortly thereafter. Carly seemed to be okay. Just being around Griffin had seemed to have some relaxing effect on her.

And what about herself? Did she believe he was an angel? Her first impulse was to say, "no," but she was having an increasingly hard time doing that.

How _had_ he worked that "paper test" thing? Try as she might, she couldn't come up with any halfway reasonable explanation for it.

Well, there was nothing to be gained by sitting around here trying to think it through. Her mom wasn't home—of course-, so Sam thought she'd run down to the corner store and buy something. She didn't need anything, she just actually needed an excuse to get out of the apartment for a little while.

The rain outside was reaching its usual Seattle torrential mode, so she dressed the part, with poncho and rubber boots. She made her way to bus terminal, and checked her phone for the time. Shouldn't be long now.

"Sam?" A familiar voice from behind her caught her attention. "Hey. Fancy meeting you here." It was Devlin, standing behind her, in a raincoat and business suit. He was carrying an umbrella, which he moved to cover as much as her as he could.

"Oh, hey, Dev. Yeah, weather's bad, but I had to get outta the apartment. Just down to the store." She looked him over. "Somehow I never figured you for the 'bus' type."

He laughed, not a mocking laugh, but just an expression of amusement. "Yes, well, it _is_ a bit of a walk. Better to ride. Use up somebody _else's_ gas." He paused a moment. They were the only ones waiting at the bus stop. "It's good to see you out of that place, Sam," referring to the reform school she'd been in.

 _It was? Why? Why should he care?_ "Yeah, well, now's the hard part. _Staying_ out."

The bus pulled up, and they both got on. "Surely that won't be _too_ difficult."

"I dunno. Lately, I've hadda restrain myself from really letting a certain guy have it."

This brought about a raised eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. This guy Carly's goin' with. Claims he's—get this—an _angel_. Yeah, that was my reaction, too."

Devlin looked speculatively. "I see. And you believe he's…what? Got your friend in a psychological mind lock or something?"

"I _know_ he's got her in a mind lock. She's absolutely taken with the guy." Why was she spilling her guts to Dev? But he always seemed to have that effect on her. "She'll believe anything he says. And apparently, he's even got her convinced that _he_ was somehow responsible for that humongoid blowup the other day, Mt. Adams."

He was sitting on the seat right beside her. Normally, Sam didn't sit by anyone on the bus—a holdover from a bad experience she'd had many years ago—but this was different. Somehow. "So…he's telling her _he_ blew the mountain up?" He looked off, a peculiar expression in his eyes. "I suppose I can see how that might be a little hard to swallow."

"'Hard to swallow'? Try _impossible!_ But he's got her head turned completely around! If it were anyone else, I'd wonder if he could be drugging her or something. All I know is, she was a basket case 'till he came over tonight. Then, she seemed to get…alright, a little, at least." The bus stopped.

"Sam," he said, "Come with me."

"Huh? Where're we-*"

"There's a coffee shop right around the corner. Coffee's on me."

"Thanks but I-*"

"…would rather get back to my apartment and continue stewing over this, going around and around in circles? Come on. Never turn down free coffee. What the heck, I'll even throw in some Danish pastries."

Shortly, the two found themselves seated at the coffee shop, by the window, watching the rain come down outside. Sam reflected that this was the first time in a while that she'd actually gone somewhere with a guy. It wasn't that she was opposed to dating, it was just…it never seemed like the right time. Or the right guy.

"So," he said, sipping his espresso, "your friend's friend has told her he's an angel?"

"Yeah. And…" She found she had a hard time going on. "It's just too much to believe! Even the paper test-*"

"Paper test?"

"Yeah, I slid a piece of paper under his feet without him picking them up. Says he can't touch the Earth. Anyway, yeah, that's a neat trick, but that's all it is." Sam found her temper rising….

He reached over and laid a hand on her wrist. For some reason, she didn't object. And it seemed…oddly calming, somehow. "Sam. Do you want my honest opinion?"

She sighed. He didn't understand at all. "You think we're all crazy."

"Of course not. But do you want me to tell you what I'm seeing? I won't, if you'd rather not."

After a fierce internal struggle, she said, "Okay. Lay it on me, I guess."

"You told me how Carly's father is being mustered out of the service, how he's supposed to come home. This will be a big change for you and your friends. Right?"

"Yeah." Once again, that fear…what would happen, where would they all go?

Would they ever see each other again?

"You fear change. There's no shame in this; almost everyone fears change. But you really have no—I suppose the best word for it is 'focal point.' You can't really object to Carly's dad coming home, despite the changes it will inevitably produce. After all, that's supposed to be a good thing, a positive thing, a thing she's looked forward to for a long time. You feel you should be happy for her…but you're not.

"On the other hand, here comes—what did you say his name is? Griffin? It's easy to focus your feelings of fear and the anger that results from it on him. He's a more legitimate target, to use a term."

She stared at him, almost open-mouthed. How was it, that he'd managed to so perfectly capture her own feelings, her own insecurities? "Am I that obvious?"

"I'm only telling you what I see. I'm not saying one way or the other about whether or not Griffin is telling the truth or not, or anything about his relationship with Carly. That's not a call I can make." Pause. "Do you feel he's _abusing_ your friend in some way?"

"Who, Carly? No way. She's not the sort to let that happen."

He studied her over his coffee. "Sam. You are afraid. Admit it, if only to yourself. That's what's fueling your anger towards Griffin—and this whole situation."

All at once, Sam seemed to sag in her chair. "I, I know. I, I just…" And for the first time in many years, a tear coursed its way down Sam Puckett's cheek.

 _To be continued…_


	9. Chapter 9: Friends

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 9: Friends

….

 _I don't own iCarly. I should be so lucky._

… _._

Chapter 9: Friends

"But she's okay?" This had to be the tenth time Carly had asked about Maggie.

"Yes, she's fine. I just spoke with Uncle Jemiah. They're taking her back to our home dimension for renewal. That'll fix _everything._ " But his face looked worried.

"Grif? What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing…no, I take that back. It's not nothing. Sometimes the renewal process causes angels to forget some things, is all."

"Forget some things? What do you mean?" Carly's voice rose a notch.

"I mean, some recent memories could be lost. It's very rare, though. I guess the best analogy I can think of is reinstalling computer software. Unless you've saved all your files, there's the possibility of losing some. Of course, this is way more complicated. But don't worry. The ones in charge of this process know what they're doing. Aunt Maggie couldn't be in better hands." He paused, visibly changing the course of his thoughts. "I just can't figure out what it was that caused all this. It would take some powerful force to injure one of us. I mean, even atomic bombs couldn't do that."

"I thought you said it was a piece of this 'Darkness'?"

"That's just a theory of mine. If the Darkness is a living thing, then it stands to reason it would need, I don't know, sustenance? Food? Or…something more complex. So it sends out….what? Feeder units? Mind, I'm just making all this up as I go…"

"And your guesses are similar to ours, Angel Gryphon," said a voice from the area in front of the door. Carly gasped as she saw an incredibly lovely blond woman, appearing to be not much older than herself, materialize out of the blue-white electric tornado she'd come to associate with angel transportation. "But as of yet, there is no data to say either one way or another."

"Oh, yes. Ah, Carly. This is Adriel, one of my colleagues in the Host of the Dominion. Adriel, this is Carly Shay."

The woman looked at Carly, and the latter was suddenly acutely conscious of every single imperfection she had or ever imagined she had. "Uh, how, how do you do?"

"Quite well, thank you. And yourself?" This woman was much more intimidating than Maggie had been. Carly felt like a bug under a microscope.

"I'm sorry for the suddenness of this, Carly. Adriel? I appreciate your accepting Maggie's work while she's away, but these mortals are not used to such sudden comings and goings. Perhaps a little warning next time?"

The woman, the angel, switched her attention back to Grif. "I shall try to remember that. But what I am here to tell you is of great and immediate importance, and could not wait. There is indication of demonic activity in this area."

"Demonic? _Demons?_ " Grif gasped. That worried Carly all the more.

"Yes. Demons. How many, or where, that we do not know, of course, due to their own nature. But you should be on the lookout for them. You know demons; when and where you least expect it, that is when they strike."

Grif groaned. "As if the Darkness wasn't bad enough… Alright, Adriel. I appreciate the head's-up. Will you be—what am I saying, I know you'll be in touch."

"Indeed I shall." And with that, she disappeared into another electric tornado.

Carly turned back to Grif. "Demons? Are they agents of the Darkness?"

"No, they're a separate order of being. They collect souls. Here, on Earth, that means the souls of humans. They're…. they can be formidable foes." He stopped again, then turned to her. "Enough catastrophe for one day. What do you say we just get out of the place for a while…take in a movie, maybe go to a coffee shop or something. I know of one not far from here…"

….

Sam very quietly and poignantly continued weeping, all without making a sound. Devlin waited patiently throughout the whole thing, his hand resting lightly on her wrist, as if lending her his strength…or taking away her pain. Or both.

After about forty-five minutes, she got herself under control again. "You can't understand. I practically have no relationship with my mother…I thought I did, one time, but I was wrong…Carly and her crew have become my family. And now…now things are gonna change. I know it."

"Sam. It's true that I can't understand exactly what you're going through. But I can, quite literally, feel your pain. Those aren't just words for me. But I can tell you something, from my own experience: it's perfectly okay to not like or want change. But just keep in mind, you've not lost anything. Nothing's happened yet. And it may not. But even if it does, you and Carly will still be friends, right? You may not live in the same city anymore, but you'll always share a bond. And that bond will be the same. In this day and age of the internet, you may actually see more of her than you ever have."

"No…you don't understand. Yeah, she moves. Okay. I can't—rationally—object to that. I got that. I was being selfish, I know. I'm a selfish person. I wanted my friend to stay here with me, for things to not change. And, and things are gonna change. I just have to, to accept it." She reached up and brushed the tears out of her eyes.

"You were being you. Everybody's a little selfish. And I've got news for you: if not wanting your friends to move away is selfish, then the entire human race is selfish.

"But you've still got her friendship. And, whether or not you accept it, I, too, am your friend. If you'll have me as one, I mean." He took her hand in his.

She smiled weakly. She'd forgotten how much crying took it out of a person. "Thanks, Dev. I…you're a good guy." She returned his grip on her hand. _I'm lucky to have a friend like you._

….

He saw her back to her and her mother's apartment. "Sam, promise me you won't just go 'round and 'round with this. Even if the very worst happens, something can always be done about it. I'm not saying it'll make things all better, that's for fairy tales. But there are usually half a hundred different ways disasters, personal and otherwise, can be…lessened. Ameliorated. Human beings are notoriously poor predictors of the future anyway." He smiled an impish smile. "After all, that's what makes Las Vegas such a booming industry."

She sighed. He was right, of course. How did he get to be right so much? "I…I know. I…what I'm afraid of may never take place. I guess I'm just trying to get myself ready for the worst.

"And the bad part is, I can't ever tell Carly that what's really eating me up is the very thing that she's been waiting for all these years. Her father, finally coming home. And, yeah, maybe he'll take the whole crew and move somewhere else. It's selfish of me to think, 'what about me?' But, dammit, _that's what I'm thinking_. And I can't get away from that."

"You don't need to 'get away' from it. Accept it. It's part of who you are, the good and the bad. And there's nothing wrong with wanting the best for yourself, now, is there? Isn't that the nature of all living things?"

"Yeah….I dunno. I'm…confused, I guess." She put her hands up to her face. The rain hadn't slacked up, and they'd taken a return bus back to the apartment complex. Such was the liquid roar of the rain, they had to speak up in order to be heard as they walked. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sam wondered where Dev lived. She knew she hadn't seen him around here.

He saw her to the door of the building. She started to say something, something on the order of "well, see ya," or something like that, when he turned to her. "Sam?"

She turned to face him, and he drew her into an embrace, a close, almost intimate encirclement, and just held her there…and she let him.

She found she liked this. She liked this a lot.

All the fear, the anger, the hurt, the anxiety…all that just seemed to fade there in his embrace. It was almost like…like emptying a bucket. All the hurt and bad feelings just seemed to drain _into_ him, somehow. _But that's…that's not possible._

 _Is it?_

 _But oh if it is…_

They separated, and he held her back, his hands on her shoulders, gazing intently into his eyes. He really did have lovely eyes, she thought. _Is he…about to kiss me?_

 _I kinda wish he would._

Instead he drew her in, one last time, and planted a light kiss on her forehead. "Get some rest, Sam. The universe will reset itself tomorrow morning."

Sam felt her eyes watering in a way that had nothing to do with allergies. She was halfway glad he hadn't tried for an actual kiss….and halfway disappointed that he hadn't. Maybe more than halfway. "Thanks, Dev. You…this has really helped me. I'll, I'll talk to you later, then?"

"Of course." He gave her a card with his cell number on it. She took a look at it: _Devlin Bendarian, WorldCorp Financing and Banking Exchange_. Down at the bottom were phone, cell, and fax numbers, and an email address: _bendariandevlin_. _WorldCorp_. _hel_.

"Whoa. Seriously, Dev? This is you? You work for-?*"

"Oh, I'm still a lowly intern. But that won't last much longer. I'll be moving up soon. After all," his eyes twinkled in the rainy gloom, his face in shadow from the streetlight, "I'm an ambitious devil."

"Uh, okay. And thanks again!" She turned and went on into the building.

She didn't see the way his eyes followed her. But it probably would have made no difference if she had.

There had been something strange about the whole evening. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. It wasn't that Devlin seemed to be able to read her like a book, or that his presence seemed oddly comforting, somehow. No, this was something else….

Wait. Downstairs, when he'd embraced her, drawing her head against his chest…he hadn't been wet. Even though the rain was saturating everything, no matter how you dressed, it still seeped or blew in.

Except on him. He'd been bone dry. And… Strange.

Was it her imagination, or had he seemed….just a trifle _warmer_ than she'd considered completely normal?

 _To be continued…_


	10. Chapter 10: Storm Clouds

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 10: Storm Clouds

….

 _I don't own iCarly. Just thought you should know._

…

Chapter 10: Storm Clouds

{{Uncle Darian? I've news to report.}}

{{You have my attention, nephew.}} Devlin communicated his entire conversation with Sam to his superior. He could sense the latter's surprise—and alarm—in his mental "voice." {{Angel activity? So close? And…this matter of an attack? By a force or forces unknown?}}

{{Yes, uncle. Sam didn't lie to me, of course; you know no human can. If indeed Carly's boyfriend is an angel, and did indeed take the actions attributed to him, for the reasons supplied, then it would stand that the entire Host is on high alert.}}

Darian took his time, considering the matter. {{And, evidently, something intruded into this world, something of sufficient power to actually injure an angel. That…is definitely cause for alarm.}}

{{Do you want me to gather more information? I can check out the destroyed area, perhaps find out something more.}}

{{To do so at this stage, and alone, would be inadvisable. Let matters cool off somewhat. You know the area is no doubt infested with human scientists right now. They will of course find nothing. Let them have time to disperse, and then you can lead a fact-finding mission. I'll send you some accounts receivable clerks, eager to prove themselves. Who knows, this may well be their chance. But for now, wait. Keep on alert for any more angel activity…and any news that could emanate from the humans' research teams. I'll alert our agents on the inside.}}

{{You believe the humans will find something?}}

{{I believe it far more probable that something will find them.}}

…

Gryphon and Carly missed Sam and Devlin by only a few minutes. "I didn't know this little shop was here," said Carly, looking around. She prided herself on knowing the location of the coffee shops, café's, and other meeting places for young people. But this one was new to her.

It obviously wasn't a new shop. In a world of "nostalgia" businesses, this one seemed to be on the level. She'd come to the point where she could easily spot the fake billboards, ads, the contrived air of "yesteryear" so many tried for. But this one seemed to be genuinely old. "Grif? Is something wrong?"

He'd been looking around, as though he'd heard or sensed something. "I guess not. Just for a minute there….no, it's just my imagination working overtime." He smiled a bit sheepishly. "Guess I'm worried about Aunt Maggie." They got their coffee and took a booth over by the window. For some reason, Grif felt a strange kind of itch when he sat down in the chair. _My imagination needs a vacation._

"Now you've got me worried. Grif, I always thought you guys were, y'know, kinda indestructible. Or something."

"Nothing here on this plane of existence is completely indestructible, Carly, though some things do come close. And it depends on what you mean by 'indestructible.' You see, I and the others exist not only here, but also in our home universe. Any force powerful enough to destroy, say, this body," he gestured to himself, "still wouldn't affect us back home. We'd just get new bodies, new incarnations, and return. So, yeah, it's sorta complicated."

Carly thought about that for a moment, sipping the cappuccino she'd ordered. "I guess I can kinda see that. So this thing that hurt her…you believe it was a piece of this Darkness?"

He shook his head. "Sorta kinda. An extension of the Darkness. Something with enough self-awareness to strike at what it perceived as an enemy."

"What _is_ the Darkness, anyway?"

He sighed. "I can't really explain that in words. It…is a, a condition that drains everything out of everything. Like a vampire, I guess you could say, but on a universal scale. Souls that have strong connections to the Darkness—what you'd call 'evil,' even though that's an oversimplification by itself—fall into it upon death of the physical body." He paused again, gathering his thoughts. "Try this analogy: a candle. Normally, you light one, it burns, melts the wax, burns down, etc. But in the Darkness, this process is, is accelerated. And everything the candle had or ever was is sucked off into nothingness. It burns itself out so completely it doesn't even exist anymore.

"Human souls can fall into this Darkness. There, they just….sort of burn themselves out. And they're gone. Totally. Nothing left. No immortal part or anything like that. The soul itself…disintegrates."

Carly shuddered. "That's what awaits people beyond life? Grif, that's horrible!"

"No, no. Not everybody. But…oh, I can't really explain it very well. But not all souls go there. Some go into the Light."

"The Light. How does that work?"

"Souls that leave this plane of existence are accepted into the Light, becoming part of it. Again, I can't really explain it; it's not like another planet or anything. It's…an entirely different state of being."

"And demons?"

He shook his head. "Different order of being. Like us, they can't really be harmed. Their home universe is highly chaotic, with a very high energy signature. Hellfire, you'd call it. Except it's not ordinary fire, of course."

"And they collect souls? Human souls?"

"Souls of humans in particular. They're complete sensualists, feeding on emotion, and feeling. That's meat and drink to them. So they collect souls, especially those of any being blessed with feelings—and that's not everybody, by the way-imprison them in what would look like a, a crystal sphere, and store them in their home universe, which we may as well call Hell, for lack of a better term. Then, they can drink in that soul's emotions whenever they like. Am I making sense?"

"Well, I can kind of follow what you're saying. How do they get these souls? Do people really sell their souls?"

"No, it doesn't work like that. That's a total fiction. A soul has to be given to one of them, given freely and with the individual knowing what they're doing."

"But…why would anyone do anything like that?"

He shrugged. "There could be lots of reasons. And demons are experts at finding those 'reasons' and amplifying them, working on them, until the person is quite willing to give that demon his or her soul. And they do."

"And…they're here? In Seattle?"

"Apparently. Adriel was warning me; she wouldn't have warned me unless they were in the vicinity of my own operations."

Carly thought. "You say these demons are, like, physical beings, like you and I? I mean, they're not like in _The Exorcist_?"

"Oh, no. That was a work of fiction. Demons, even if they were able to take over human bodies like that, wouldn't act _that_ way. How many souls d'you think they'd get, going around spraying people in the face with pea soup? I mean, that'd be silly.

"The most dangerous demons…are the ones who befriend you."

…..

Hell: The minor demon set to guard the lava fields in the northernmost parts of the first circle noticed it first.

It wasn't _her_ fault, that time, that that scuzzy angel had interfered! Everything had been going so smoothly! But nooOOOooo. That do-gooder hadda go an' get all involved. Nobody asked him to butt in! Waste of a perfectly good soul, if you asked her.

But the Black Throne didn't care to hear "excuses," so here she was, stripped of her rank and exiled to this dump, guarding the Uncollected in the molten sea below. While it was true the job came with some perks—the endless moaning and waves of general misery from below never got old—still, she was _stuck here,_ unable to advance, not allowed to start her own collection. She had to make do with scraps, as it were. _Scraps._

Well, all right. So be it. She'd bide her time, and work her way back up. Surely it wouldn't be too long before _somebody_ noticed that she was doing a good job, was dependable, reliable, etc. She could be promoted to Teller, and then could once again be allowed in the Earth realm, to collect her first soul.

She shifted on her rock, high up on the mountain jutting out of the lava, pulling her shadowcloak around a bit tighter, gripping her trident. She might hate being out here so far from civilization, a basic nobody as far as Hell was concerned, but she did have a responsibility here. The best way to achieve promotion and get off this rock and back to where she belonged was to do her job and do it well.

What was that?

She perked up and raised her head, her inhumanly perfect vision zeroing in on a spot far out over the vast plain of lava. It looked like a momentary distortion, a heat mirage….except she knew her eyes weren't affected by such illusions.

She'd always suspected that the job of lava field guard was just a made-up job, make-work, one created solely to humiliate those assigned to it. But now….

Now, all of a sudden, she wasn't so sure.

She stood up, the rocky ledge she'd been sitting on breaking off from the main mountain, and levitating smoothly over the lava fields. Chunks of the basaltic rock from her flying perch broke away and fell down into the lava. {{Sir?}} She contacted her supervisor, {{I just saw something peculiar, out here in sector 37f.}}

{{What?}}

{{I couldn't tell. It looked like some sort of distortion. I couldn't get a good look at it.}}

{{You're sure you saw something?}}

{{I'm sure I saw _something_. I just don't know what. I'm going to investigate.}}

{{Good. Maintain this link. I want to see what you see, should you see it again.}}

{{Yes, sir.}} She levitated her rock over the area where she saw the anomaly, cautiously lowering it down towards the lava. The lava couldn't hurt her, of course, but she was understandably wary of whatever it was she could have-*

Vice-President and CEO Darian benDarian was taking a brief interlude from his many meetings, soaking up some good feels from his collection of souls, when the call came through. {{Sir? Something perhaps you should be aware of.}}

{{You've caught me at a rare moment; I actually have time to listen. What is it?}}

{{One of our minor guards out on the lava fields has suddenly ceased to report.}}

Darian frowned. {{I'm sure there's more to that story than just that, else you wouldn't be bothering me with it.}}

{{She reported seeing something she couldn't get a good picture of out on the lava fields, sector 37f. She went to investigate, remaining in contact with her supervisor, as protocol requires. Then, a few seconds later, all contact was lost.}}

{{And the supervisor….?}}

{{Has no more answers than we do. All he knows is, she was there one second and gone the next.}}

{{I know you've investigated enough to know that she didn't just break off communication.}}

{{Of course, sir. We sent a scout; he found nothing. Not even any trace of the rock she was levitating on.}}

{{Alright. You've reported this. I'll send some account manager interns to look into it. In the meantime, maintain a careful check with all the other perimeter guards. Have reinforcements ready for dispatch at a moment's notice.}}

{{Yes, sir.}} benDarian could "hear" the undercurrent of surprise and disbelief in the other's mental "voice." The notion that someone or something might actually be launching an _invasion of Hell itself_ was one that had not crossed anyone's mind since the first protozoa formed in Earth's seas.

But he knew one thing: Hell had gates for a _reason._

 _To be continued…._


	11. Chapter 11: Guests

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 11: Guests

…..

 _I don't own iCarly. I'm jus' sayin'…_

…

Chapter 11: Guests

Grif's Apartment: Carly had accompanied him back. "Do you think it's wise to raid the Darkness again so soon, Grif? I mean, hadn't you better wait and make sure things are stable now?"

"Now's no worse than any other time, Carly. Besides, you're here. My connection to you is strongest here, in the center of my life here on Earth. And maybe I can glean some information on what actually happened out there. I've alerted Adriel; she's nearby, if need be. Don't worry; it's perfectly safe. And I won't be long. I'm still not really going looking for souls to save, not just yet. This is still recon."

"Okay. It's just…Grif, I just wonder if this is not something you're not prepared for. I mean, I know you're powerful, an' all, and I don't know what sort of experience you've got, but everybody seems to think this is pushing all the envelopes there are."

He embraced her. "Don't worry, Carly. I won't take stupid chances. I just need to see if the overall aspect, or condition, or whatever you want to call it, of the Darkness has changed, and, if so, to what degree." He paused, looking at her. "You know, there is a slight possibility I may've caused what happened to Aunt Maggie."

She looked up at him from within his embrace. "Grif?"

"I mean, did I disturb the Darkness to the point where it lashed out? It did seem to focus on this world…the very world I started my harrowing of it from. I'm hoping that was just coincidence, but I don't know. And I have to know."

"A-alright. Well, what do you do? A, a magic circle or something?"

"Unnecessary." He kissed her, broke away and moved towards a cleared spot between the couch and the TV. "Just hang on. I shouldn't be but a few seconds." And with that, he disappeared in the usual electric tornado.

The Darkness: he couldn't see anything like last time, where he'd seen, or sensed, a vast battlefield. This time, it was a flat, endless plain, zebra-striped, but perfectly smooth, without so much as a pebble to mar its perfectly polished surface. He cast his angel vision around cautiously; there had to be something here, if for no other reason, to imagine this featureless plain. He could tell that there were whorls all about where time did not pass as it did in the mortal realm; although they posed him no danger, he nonetheless avoided them. No point in taking chances.

He did give them a little study, however. This was the closest thing anyone had done to research on this condition called the Darkness had done in….well, it might well be the first research anybody had ever actually done at all. Was it possible for the Darkness to absorb and dissipate _time itself?_ He guessed there was no reason why it couldn't.

At the very edge of his vision, he caught sight of beings, or things, appearing and disappearing. Such were the conditions here in this vast place that he couldn't see them very clearly. Even some things close by seemed indistinct, a decided handicap for someone accustomed to having eyesight far beyond what humans would call perfect.

Floating over the ground, he glanced around him. Just a vast, billiard-ball smooth plain…maybe very, very far in the distance, he could see what appeared to be mountains jutting up into the sky, a sky that was completely black, yet with visible objects moving through it. These objects appeared to be blacker than the blackness around them, and he wondered what they could possibly be. Perhaps there were some records back home; he'd have to look them up…

All of a sudden, he felt something grab him by the ankles. Instinctively, he fought, pulling his feet up, but couldn't shake whatever had grabbed him. He tried to get a look at it, but his vision was obscured by the temporal distortions inherent of this place, and all he could make out was an indistinct blur. Whatever it was, it wasn't letting go. _Alright,_ he thought, _that's the way you wanna play it? I'll just drag you into the light, and take a good look at you._ And with that, he initiated his return sequence, latching onto Carly's lines of potential and hauling himself and the whatever-it-was virtually hand over hand "upwards" towards the Earth realm. At the same time, he prepared a force-dome capable of neutralizing anything and everything he could possibly think of….

….and found himself back in his apartment, with Carly looking up, startled, from the magazine she'd been reading. Her gaze slipped off him and turned to the weight he'd been pulling… "Who's she?"

He looked around. Lying halfway on her side was a dark haired girl wearing a red tunic and pants, cinched together by a large-buckled black leather belt. The tunic crossed over and buttoned around the side. Around her shoulders she wore a cloak or cape that somehow didn't seem completely real. Instead of draping around her, like a normal garment, it seemed to float slightly, in the tiny breeze there in the apartment. A trident made of some sort of shiny black metal was gripped in her right hand, and she lay gasping on the floor of Grif's apartment.

Carly quickly moved over to help, and he had to get in front of her. "Keep behind me, Carly! And whatever you do, _don't look at her!"_

"Don't look at her? What…what's going on, Grif?"

But he ignored her, turning his attention to the strange woman. "Cover your eyes! Do it _now!_ "

The girl ceased panting, and pushed herself up. "An' if I _don't?_ "

He already had his hand up, ready to Speak. "You don't want to hear what I'll have to say about it."

The girl considered it for a moment, glaring up at him. "Cheeze Louise. I can't get away from you guys even in the Darkness. Awright, already. Keep your robe on. There. I'm covered. Happy?"

Grif relaxed somewhat. "It's okay now, Carly."

Carly came from around him, examining the strange woman.

Woman? She looked to be about Maggie's age, maybe early to mid-twenties, only a few inches taller than Carly was herself, with dark, wavy hair that fell to her shoulders. Her fine features included wide cheekbones, a strong, pointed chin, upturned nose, and a high forehead. Combined with her expression, she gave the overall impression of not only a very intelligent young woman, but an exceedingly attractive one, by any human standard. _Are all the girls out there supermodels?_ Carly wondered. "Grif? Is this a friend of yours?"

Not taking his eyes off her, Grif answered. "By no means. Carly, _this_ ," and he gestured towards the strange girl, "is a demon."

…..

"A demon? _Her?_ _She's_ a demon?" Carly was clearly trying to process it all.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a demon. What of it? Haven't you ever seen-* Oh, right. You haven't." She stopped, scowling, pulling the cloak she was wearing around her more tightly. Carly noticed that she hadn't relinquished her death-grip on the trident she carried.

"First off, who are you?" Grif was standing in front of her, between her and Carly. Carly was rather glad he was. This girl positively _exuded_ an air of _trouble._

"None of your business."

He narrowed his eyes. "So I guess I'll call you 'nun' for short?"

The girl winced. "No need for name-calling. I'm…Jillian. There. Happy?"

"Ecstatic. Now. What were you doing down in the Darkness?"

The girl hitched her cloak around her even tighter, in what seemed to Carly like a nervous gesture, straightened up and turned, as though beginning a pace. She ran up against the force-dome Grif had set up when he first returned to the Earth realm. "Hey! You've got me locked in here!"

"That's right." Grif didn't back down. "Now. Once again: what were you doing down in the Darkness?"

The girl was obviously seething with anger, but she answered calmly enough. "Honest truth? I have no idea. All I know is, I went to investigate a distortion or disturbance out over the area I was supposed to be guarding when wham. Next thing I know, there's these legs floating over me. I grabbed 'em. Guess it goes without saying they were yours."

"Wait. You're telling me…something intruded into the Hell dimension? Some aspect of the Darkness?"

"You catch on quick. Yeah, that's what I'm saying. Now, will you let me out of here? It's cramped in here."

"Not so fast. I want your word that you'll cause no harm to anyone while you're here."

She stopped and glowered at him. "Yeah? An' if I don't wanna give it?"

"Then I turn you over to the Seraphim High Council. I'm sure they'll find a 'nice' place for you." The threatening undertone in his voice was a little more than obvious.

Again, the demon winced. "Okay, okay. You don't need to twist my arm. I…" She rolled her eyes upward and blew an errant strand of hair off her face, "I promise not to terrorize anybody while I'm here. There. Good enough?"

"It'll do." He made a gesture, and the girl stood up straighter, stretching her shoulders out. The strange cape she was wearing wavered in the non-existent breeze.

"So much better. You know, you _could_ thank me."

"Thank you?"

She smiled a lopsided smile. "When I first materialized here, I sterilized your floor for you."

"Ah. Well. Thanks, I guess." It sounded like it was pulled out of him with pliers.

"Grif? What does she mean, sterilized the floor? I didn't see her do anything. What's she talking about?" Carly was still trying to come to terms with being face to face with an honest-to-Go*-make that a _real demon._

Without taking his eyes off the new arrival, Grif replied. "It's called Hellgaze, or demongaze. Anything a demon looks at, without the shielding illusion they normally use, dies. She looked at the floor when she first got here. So, yeah, everything, bacteria, viruses, you name it, that was on or in the floor is dead now. Right now, this floor is the only spot on Earth that's completely devoid of any form of life whatsoever. That's why you should never look a demon in the eyes. It's easy for them to drop that illusion. Too easy." Carly had been checking out Jillian, and had noted her hazel eyes—an illusion?

"Alright." Grif rubbed his palms together. "If something breached the Hell universe, then things are worse than I thought. I'll have to contact Uncle Jemiah; he needs to be made aware of this."

"Hey, I thought you said you weren't gonna turn me over!"

"I'm not. But I have to report. But you're not here unlawfully; you were kidnapped, basically. So you're under my protection."

The demon girl's expression turned three degrees of sour. "'Under your-* I think I need a barf bag."

….

While Grif made his report, Carly followed the demon girl into the main living area. She still carried her trident, but even as Carly watched, she gave it a twist, and the trident shrank, like a lightsaber in reverse, becoming a small rod she attached to her belt. The weird cloak around her also shrank, becoming a night-black choker around her throat. Jillian went over to the overstuffed couch and plopped down heavily into it, scowling.

Carly sat in a chair nearby. "So. You're…a demon."

Jillian glanced up at her. "Yeah, I am. What's it to you?"

"Nothing. I was just wondering…are you alright? I mean, you just came from the Darkness…and it's already hurt of friend of ours."

Jillian looked at her longer this time. Then, "You've been spending too much time around that angel. No, wait." She looked at Carly a little longer, puzzled. "You've always been this way. No wonder you two are running around together."

"Grif's a nice guy!"

"That's what I mean." As if she were having to explain that water is wet. She rested her elbow on the sofa's arm and her cheek on her fist.

Carly felt her own temper beginning to rise. "You don't have to be so snarky about it. I mean, you're out of the Darkness, Grif didn't turn you over, like you said…why this attitude? _We_ didn't do anything to _you_!"

"You _do_ know his sort and mine are primal enemies, right? He explained that to you?"

"Ye—ess…"

"Just how would _you_ feel if you were in the midst of a war and suddenly found yourself a prisoner of the enemy? 'Cos I am."

Carly looked at her levelly for a moment. "I think a lot of how I'd react would depend on how I was being treated. Are you being mistreated right now?"

"…"

"And correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't my boyfriend just rescue you from something it seems like everybody's afraid of, with reason?"

Jillian's head lifted off her hand, and she stared at Carly, an unwinking, somewhat shocked stare. "Your _boyfriend?"_

"That's right. Didn't he just-*"

"He's your _boyfriend?"_

"Yes." It seemed they'd have to get that out of the way before the conversation could proceed any further.

Jillian looked at her a minute longer. Then she started to chuckle. The chuckling turned into a full throated laugh. The she-demon laughed so hard, she was holding her sides. "Oh, that's rich. That almost makes it all worthwhile."

 _To be continued…_


	12. Chapter 12: Best Behavior

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 12: Best Behavior

….

 _(Insert standard disclaimer here.)_

… _._

Chapter 12: Best Behavior

Grif came back into the living room before Jillian finished laughing. He saw her mirth, and glanced at Carly, who only shrugged. "I just spoke with Uncle Jemiah. He wants to meet with us at Chez Lounge…and we gotta bring Jillian, here."

Jillian finally got herself under control. "So much for angel promises. You said you weren't gonna turn me over-*"

"I'm _not_ turning you over. He just wants to ask you a few questions. That's not 'turning you over.' In fact, I'm supposed to keep you with me, sort of. You're…." and here he swallowed, audibly, "….a guest here." Before she could say anything, he raised a finger. " _Do not_ abuse that relationship. None of your usual tricks."

"You don't even know what my usual tricks are."

"I can make a pretty good guess. Don't do 'em. Now, come on." With a thought, he clothed himself in his tuxedo, presumably the same one as last time. (Did angels only have one tux?—Carly wondered.)

"Uh, Grif? If we're going to Chez Lounge…" Carly gestured to her clothes. Last time, Griffin's Aunt Maggie had transformed her clothes into a formal evening gown. Maggie wasn't here now.

"Oh, right." He looked at her, frowning in concentration. "Thing is, I'm not sure I know that much about women's fashion. Let's see…" He passed his hand over her, and the molecules of her clothes danced to his mind's tune.

Carly was attired in a loosely draped white evening dress, with elbow length gloves made of the same substance, a strand of pearls around her neck, matching pearl earrings.

Jillian rolled her eyes. "You _aren't_ serious, are you?"

He turned to the demon girl. "I guess you think you could do better?"

"I couldn't do _worse._ But you said, none of my usual tricks, so…."

Grif turned to Carly. "Carly, what do you think? Is this good?"

"Grif, I'm more of a 'McDonald's' type person. I don't know the first thing about what sort of clothes one wears to these sorts of places, but this….this feels good. It's…comfortable…" In the back of her mind, she found herself wishing for some of Maggie's fashion sense. The gown Maggie had magicked up for her last time had been identical with evening dresses costing a year's payment on a house.

Jillian cleared her throat. "Since you _did_ pull me out of the Darkness, I suppose I _could_ put in my, as the saying goes, two cents' worth. If you'll permit, your high and mightiness angel, I mean."

Grif was obviously getting fed up with Jillian's attitude, but he gestured: _go ahead._ And all of a sudden, Carly was engulfed in flames.

Flames that did not burn her, but in less than an eyeblink rearranged her clothes' molecules yet again. This time, she found herself in a red silk evening dress, form-fitting enough to display her figure to the maximum degree, also with matching gloves, and matching shoes with stiletto heels that felt like they had to be at least three inches tall. Her hair was perfectly rearranged into a shoulder-length coif that showcased the pearl earrings in her ears to best effect. The gown was low cut, but not so low as to be uncomfortable. "Oh, wait. I forgot." And Carly felt a most peculiar sensation as Jillian conjured her some underwear underneath her dress. "Though _some_ would go without, I guess _certain people_ ," and here she glanced pointedly at Grif, "would have a cow if _you_ didn't." She turned to Grif. "You're welcome."

….

Chez Lounge: the doorman let them through without the same level of scrutiny as last time, though his eyes did linger on Jillian a moment. Carly wondered if the doorman was human or angel.

The Gold Room: Jemiah was waiting for them. Carly had time to wonder if Uncle Jemiah conducted most of his business—whatever it was—from this room, or if this was just neutral ground. Or both.

Jemiah nodded to Jillian. "Jillian Adara. It has been a while."

"Not nearly long enough." Jillian didn't seem to be all that discomfited by Jemiah's gaze, though Carly noticed she didn't actually look Jemiah squarely in the face, the way she had them, back at Grif's apartment.

"Forty-seven years. I see the Black Throne took issue with your last escapade."

"They 'took issue' with my _failure_ at my last escapade, as you call it. For which I can thank your precious angel Samael."

Jemiah gestured to them to their seats. Carly noticed he sat Jillian down right next to him. She couldn't tell if that made the demon girl any more uncomfortable than she already was. "Indeed you can. He was commended for that. But that is a past matter. What of this issue with the Darkness?" Jillian repeated her story to Jemiah. "And have your superiors been informed of this occurrence?"

"Not by me. I haven't had the chance to."

"You will be permitted to do so. Now." The waiter, the same one as last time, served them, again what appeared to be a kind of quiche.

Jillian's eyes widened a bit as she looked at her food. "Hey, I didn't know you could do that!"

"Do what?" Carly whispered to Grif.

"Don't know how, but they baked emotions into the quiche. Both our sorts of beings require more than a physical substance for what I suppose you'd call proper nourishment."

Carly looked at her own share. "You mean…this has _emotions_ in the mix?"

"No, not your share. Nor mine. Just Jillian's." Carly noted that the demon girl had fallen on the plate and was busily devouring it with obvious hunger. The demon girl kept casting glances at Jemiah, though, and Carly didn't need telepathy to figure out what was going on inside her head: these angels were being awfully civilized to her; why?

"Nephew? What have you gleaned from your experiences with the Darkness?"

Grif shifted a bit. "I honestly haven't been able to find out as much as I would have liked, uncle. My first foray brought me face to face with some sort of creature unlike anything in my experience. Then, the incident at Mt. Adams. Now, this. I can only guess that the Darkness is somehow…I don't want to say expanding, but certainly reacting in some way, sending out tendrils of itself, shoots, perhaps, to use an analogy. This would seem to strengthen the notion that it is alive."

"Wait." Jillian looked up from her food. Carly thought she seemed awfully hungry. "What are you talking about?"

To Carly's surprise, Grif answered her quite frankly, without any attempt at secrecy. She guessed it wasn't on any "classified" list anywhere. "I have recently begun journeying into the Darkness in an effort to recover those souls trapped there, who can be salvaged. So far, I haven't encountered any."

Jillian's illusory eyes bugged out. "You…are actually _deliberately going down into the Darkness? For what?"_

"I told you," he answered calmly, "to try and save those souls who can be saved."

Jillian leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms in front of her chest, shaking her head. "Must be an angel thing. Nobody's called you 'insane,' yet?"

"No…"

"Let me be the first. You're insane." She turned her attention to Carly. "Is it possible for an angel to be insane?"

Jemiah broke in. "This is scarcely the time for such diagnoses. Nephew, you will see to the disposition of your…guest here, while I initiate contact with my opposite number in Hell. See to her needs…but you are responsible for her behavior." Grif looked like he was about to say something, but Jemiah silenced him with a glance. "This could easily be a matter of equal concern to both our people's. While it has long been thought that we have nothing in common, that may no longer be the case. Until then, you will be responsible for her. Am I clear?"

"Yeah, Grif," said Jillian, finishing up her quiche, "is he clear?" Her grin was pure malice.

"It…is clear, Uncle Jemiah. I am, and remain, obedient."

…

Back at Grif's small apartment, he explained his house rules to her. "No tricks, no using your powers for mischief. And you will. Not. Target any of my friends. And leave the rats and the cat alone."

"Rats? You have rats living here? And a cat, too?"

"Yes. They get along nicely."

Jillian stared at him a moment longer, then shook her head in disgust. "I'll never understand you angels. Here, you've a perfect opportunity for some conflict, some bloodshed, some lovely emotions, both positive and negative, yet you prohibit it totally. And for what? What do you get out of it?"

"A quiet, peaceful place to live, one I find conducive to a being like myself. Which is exactly the way I want it."

"Boh Ring. But you do know, I have to eat, too, right? So what am I supposed to do, if I can't browse the buffet out there?" She nodded her head towards the window.

"I'll bring you food. No predation. Got it?"

"And if I don't?"

He stood over her, seated, as she was, back on his sofa. Carly looked on from the kitchenette, curious to see how this matter was going down, and trying to follow the conversation. "Think about it. As far as the Black Throne is concerned, you deserted your post, and showed up here, in a realm you're _specifically prohibited_ from being in. What do you suppose their reaction will be?" Jillian was silent, eyes downcast. "You need our corroboration, our verification, that this was not your fault. You need _my_ verification. I'd think it would be in your interests to cooperate."

Jillian thought longer. Then, "okay. I see what you mean. You've got me over a barrel here. They didn't want to hear my reasons way back then, they sure wouldn't now." She suppressed a shudder. There were worse jobs than lava field guard.

"Alright. Now, I have to go run some errands, and then, hopefully, Uncle Jemiah will have contacted your people to come take you off my hands. Until then, be on your best behavior." He looked towards Carly. "Are you ready, Carly?"

"Yeah, Grif. I've made a list of some things we'll need. Say. That reminds me: does Jillian have, like, any special dietary problems?"

"Nothing a supermarket can fix. I'll get something from my uncle's people. But let me first check some things of my own…." He moved off into the bedroom of the apartment, checking.

Carly found herself standing beside the demon. "Anything we can get for you? I mean, anything, y'know, _normal_ that we can get for you?"

"You're definition of 'normal' and mine aren't the same. But I sense what you're asking, and no, there's really not." Her hand crept to her belt. "Haven't eaten that good in a while."

Carly sat, very tentatively, down beside her, keeping as far away as possible. "They don't feed you back home?"

"Grief, no. Didn't he tell you about what we eat?"

"He said you feed on emotions, on feelings."

"That's right. Most demons have their own collection of souls they can tap for sustenance. But I got demoted, all those years ago, and I'm not allowed to have a collection. So I had to make do with the Uncollected souls in the lava. I…guess it…kept me going."

"I noticed you seemed awfully hungry, back there."

"I've been living on the equivalent of scraps all these years. What I suppose you'd find analogous to living out of dumpsters." She shrugged, once again, leaning her head against her hand, resting on the sofa's arm. "It kept me going. But you try that for a few decades and see if that doesn't make you _really appreciate_ a good, hot meal." Her face took on a faint pitiful look. "And I was _that close_ to having my first soul."

Quite against her will, Carly found herself sympathizing with the demon girl. Living out of dumpsters? "Grif?" He'd come back into the room.

Before she could say anything more, he raised a finger. "Don't start feeling sorry for her, Carly. She'll eat that up. Literally."

"Killjoy."

"You bet. Carly? Are you read-*" Just at that exact moment, Grif's doorbell rang. Crossing over, he was surprised to see Sam, Freddie, and Spencer just outside. "Hey, Grif! Is Carly here?"

"Oh, yeah, Sam, she's here." He'd already changed Carly's clothes back to her usual garb.

"Hey, good. We tried calling, but didn't get any answer." He stepped back from the door, allowing them to come in. "Hey, Brune! Where've you been?"

Carly hugged her friend. "Just here and there. Sorry we didn't get your call…I think my cell might be on the blink. Again."

"Well, we were all going bowling. Wanna come?"

"Uh…" She looked at Grif for guidance. Was this a good time? After all, he had an actual _demon from Hell_ living under his roof, however temporarily.

A demon who'd gotten up and joined the group at the entrance. She was still wearing her two-piece red tunic and pants, with the belt and boots seemingly made of black leather. It actually looked rather striking on her. She still had her arms crossed in front of her chest, defensively, it seemed to Carly…but she was eyeing Spencer... "My, my. Carly, you didn't tell me you had such a _cute_ brother."

Carly immediately felt herself beginning to perspire.

 _To be continued…._


	13. Chapter 13: Old Friends

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 13: Old Friends

…

 _Nope, still don't own…oh, you remember._

…

Chapter 13: Old Friends

Spencer noticed Jillian watching him. In truth, Carly had to admit, it would be hard for anyone with a set of XY chromosomes to _not_ notice the demon girl. But knowing what she knew about her…. "Who's this, Carly?"

"Uh, her name's, uh…"

Jillian stuck out her hand in his direction. She ignored Sam completely. "I'm Jillian. And you're…Carly's brother? She didn't mention anything about you."

"Uhm, right." Spencer was pretty clearly hypnotized by Jillian's attention to him. "Are…are you a friend of Grif's?"

"She's my…uh, distant, er, cousin. Here in town for a few days." This sounded forced; Carly knew why. It went against an angel's basic nature to lie.

But Jillian also looked just a tad nauseous. " _Extremely_ distant cousin. _Very_ distant. In fact, I can't tell you how far apart we are." _She_ didn't have any trouble lying.

"Yes, Jillian's staying here while she's in town." He turned his gaze on Jillian, who pretended not to notice. "Which _won't be long._ "

"Oh, well, in that case, you have to come with us! Ever been bowling?"

"Actually, no. Sounds like fun."

Grif pulled her over to one side. "I thought you agreed _no tricks_?"

"How is this a trick? I mean, he was courteous enough to ask! I haven't done anything!"

"You were going to."

"How do you know? Actually, I wasn't. But don't you think it's in keeping with your promise to keep an eye on me? After all," she glanced away, a mischievous look on her face, "There's no telling what naughtiness I might get into, all alone here and unsupervised."

"Right. Which means, I'll have to stay here to-*"

"And, besides, he invited me personally. What am I supposed to say? That you won't let me go? Won't he wonder why? For that matter, I wonder myself."

Grif thought furiously. Something told him this was the beginning of trouble, but he had to admit, she had a point. "Alright. But I saw the way you were eyeing him. Leave him alone."

"Have you forgotten you've got my promise to not try anything? And besides, I _can't_ collect souls. I'm not allowed. Remember?"

"Grif?" Carly edged over. She could guess what the whispered conversation was about, and about the direction it was probably taking. Grif was, angel or not, a bit of a softie. And Jillian struck her as a skilled negotiator. "Grif? Is this…a good idea?"

He sighed. "Probably not. But I…maybe it won't be World War III." He turned back to Jillian. " _Don't_ make me regret this. Remember, you need my validation, or the Black Throne will throw everything they've got at you."

"I _got_ it, already! Now, let's go! I can't wait to see how this 'bowling' is played!"

On the way over, Sam leaned across to Carly. "Who is she, Carls?"

"Er, like Grif said, a distant cousin. Her, uhm, arrival here was totally unexpected, so she doesn't have, like, a place to stay or anything. Grif offered to let her crash on his couch. He doesn't have a guest room, you know."

Sam looked at her, her eyes narrowing. Why wasn't Carly telling her the truth? They'd been together for so long, she already knew her friend was lying, at least partially.

Well, sooner or later, she'd get the truth.

The bowling alley was only half-full, so they had their pick of the better lanes. Jillian and Spencer got a lane to themselves, so Spence could show her how to bowl. Carly wondered if he really thought he was fooling anybody.

As for Jillian, this was a new experience. Demons' natural (or, more accurately, supernatural) abilities didn't include the ability to bowl well, and none of Jillian's future selves had ever really gotten into it, so she didn't have that to draw on. Spencer took it upon himself to show her proper stance, how to grip the ball, the angle of the throw, etc. She was, of course, a very quick study, and before long, had the basics of the game mastered. But she pretended to be clumsier than she really was.

"No, you're stance is off a little. Here, I'll show you." Spencer came up behind her, with Carly looking on nervously from their alley, and got right behind her, moving her hand over the ball into the proper grip…and shaping her body into the proper stance to put just the right spin on the ball. Of course, he had to practically touch her, spoon-fashion, to show her this…

Carly got more and more nervous.

"How goes it over here?" Grif casually walked over during a brief break the others were taking. Nothing in his voice betrayed any hint of worry.

"It goes great, cuz! Thanks, Spencer! This is fun!" She laughed. "Now, what was that way of holding the ball you showed me a minute ago?"

"Uh, Spencer? Could I have a word with Jillian? Just a moment?"

"Oh, uh, okay. I could use a break, myself."

Grif drew a clearly disappointed Jillian over to one side. " _What_ are you _doing_?!"

She actually had the nerve to look surprised. "Why, I'm learning how to bowl, of course. Spencer's a really good teacher." She cast another glance over towards Carly's brother, who was gulping out of a sports bottle. Her look had nothing to do with the normal appreciation one shows a good teacher. She saw Grif's look. "I'm not using any powers or anything. You'd know if I was. He just wants to show me how to bowl. How can that be wrong?"

Grif thought. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind what the demon girl was doing, but what to do about it? Spencer was attracted to her, and she was encouraging that…but in a perfectly human way. He couldn't, according to the very rules he'd laid down, object to that. " _Don't_ hurt him. In _any_ way."

"What? _Me_ , hurt _him_? Never! I just…wanna have a little fun. Just like a human would. Nothing wrong with that, surely!"

While they talked, Carly sat with Sam in their alley. Freddie had been unable to join them, and Sam was feeling the loss, though she'd sooner die than admit it. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wished Devlin would "just happen" to wander in…but this really wasn't his type of sport. Hm. Maybe she should give him a call?

But while she sat there, she decided it was time to have it out with Carly. "When you gonna tell me the truth, Carls?"

"Huh?"

"About Jillian. There's way more to her than you're telling me. So, while we've got a moment, spill."

Pause. "Do you believe that Grif's an angel?"

Now it was Sam's turn to think. "Not sure. Okay, that paper test was convincing, I admit. But-*"

"No buts, Sam. I'm tired of buts. Either you believe he's an angel, an angel from a place that might as well be heaven, or this whole past few months has been a delusion, and you're in a hospital somewhere, in a thorazine coma, dreaming the whole thing. So choose. Choose now."

Sam backed up a little. She'd never seen Carly so… _determined_. So _sure._ "Okay. I…believe. As you say, it's either all true, or none of it's true. Okay, so let's say I'm in. Now. Is Jillian another angel?"

Carly sighed. "No, just the opposite. She's a demon."

"A demon."

"Yes."

"A real demon."

"Yes."

"Like, a demon from Hell type demon?"

"Again, yes."

"She doesn't _look_ like a demon."

"What's a demon supposed to look like?"

"Uhm. Good point. What's she doing here?"

"Grif rescued her from the Darkness."

"That horrible place you told me about? I thought that was supposed to be Hell."

"No, Hell's a different place. The Darkness is actually worse."

"I thought demons and angels were, like, enemies, or something."

"They are. That's the problem."

Sam studied the scenario before her. "She's sure makin' a play for Spencer."

"And, of course, like any other man, he totally doesn't see it."

"And she's, what? Out to, to get him, in some way? Take over his body?"

"Doesn't work like that. But she may be after his soul."

Sam gasped. "She can do that?"

"She says not. But Grif seems to be altogether too nervous for her to be completely harmless."

"So….what now? What do we do?"

Carly sighed. "Now, nothing. Just get through the evening, and get her back to Grif's apartment, and hope her people come and get her soon. The sooner they do…" She glanced over at Spencer and Jillian, who were sitting just a little too close together for Carly's total comfort.

….

 _{{Nephew}}_

 _{{Yes, Uncle Darian?}}_ Devlin was busy tidying up some accounts for the Committee on Mergers and Acquisitions. He was a natural at this.

 _{{It would seem that your errant…associate has managed to get herself in the midst of a problem, yet again.}}_

 _{{You don't mean Jillian, do you? Not her! That demon's trouble, no matter how you look at it. I thought she'd been demoted to lava field guard?}}_

 _{{I do and she was. But she somehow managed to find her way into the Darkness, only to be pulled out of it by none other than your target Sam's best friend's boyfriend, who just so happens to be Gryphon Stryder, Earth's self-appointed guardian angel. She's having to stay at his place until we can reclaim her. That is, assuming we decide we even want her back._

 _{{I don't suppose I have to tell you how this complicates matters.}}_

Devlin groaned and squeezed the bridge of his nose, hard. He honestly didn't see how things could get more messed up. _{{That little screw-up. If she costs me Sam's soul, I swear I'll….I don't know, but I'll think of something. What do you wish me to do about it?}}_

 _{{For the moment, nothing. We are in the midst of conferring with the Black Throne to see precisely what we'll do. This…affair does not appear to have resulted from any wrongdoing on her part, and may even have had the beneficial effect of alerting us to an intrusion into our universe by the Darkness, so we can scarcely blame her for that. But, as you say, she's trouble. If she gets a look at you, she'll immediately know who you are, would deduce your goals and intentions, and probably seek to blackmail you with that information. So that is something you'll need to factor into your plans.}}_

 _{{Indeed it is. Well. I had intended to tell Sam the truth anyway, before long. Perhaps this is as good a time as any. That will leave me free to drag that little imp back to the lava field where she be-*}}_

 _{{You'll take no action until I hear from the Black Throne. That may mean an alteration in your plans of seeing Sam, however, since she and Carly are so frequently together. And now, of course, Carly's angel boyfriend. If he sees you in Sam's mind, he'll suspect something. And if he sees you in person…}}_

Devlin sighed, a very human gesture. _{{I understand, Uncle. I shall await your instructions.}}_

Back at the bowling alley: The gang had finished up their match, and were relaxing in the refreshment stand. Jillian found herself wishing for some more of that angel stuff with real ingredients. Though this wasn't bad.

Just to annoy Grif, she sat right by him and Carly, with Spencer on the other side. "Well, I can't say when I've had more fun, cuz," she said, winking at Grif, whose eyes promised retribution. She wasn't worried. "Thanks, Spencie. I've never bowled before."

"'Spencie'?" asked Carly, her eyebrow arching upward.

"Oh, just a pet name I have for your brother. You don't mind, do you, Spencie?" Spencer looked like he was ready for the collar and the leash.

The tension between Jillian and Carly grew perceptibly. Jillian loved every second of it. But then, she saw someone, just getting ready to head out….someone she knew. "Pardon me a moment," said Jillian, "Which way's the restroom?"

Over by the door: a well-dressed man in his late sixties was making sure his granddaughters' jackets were buttoned up, and had fastened their shoes correctly. The youngest was a cute blond girl, with a head of curly hair, and a tomboyish attitude. "Aw, grandpop! We know how to tie our shoes!"

"Just making sure." Then he called for a cab, it being rather late.

"Hey, Roger," said a familiar voice behind and beside him.

He turned. It couldn't be….but he'd remember that voice if he lived to be a thousand. "Jillian? _Jillian?_ Is that you?"

Her smile was almost bittersweet. "Yeah. It's me."

He was flabbergasted. The last time he'd seen her was nearly fifty years ago, yet she hadn't aged a day. _Well, of course not,_ he mentally kicked himself, _her kind don't age._ "I….what…I mean…." He couldn't think where to begin.

"Who's this, grandpop? She's _pretty._ "

"Uh, this is an old friend of mine, girls. Jillian? You…you're looking great…"

"Thanks." She glanced down at her feet. "About what happened…I got…intercepted. Things didn't go well for me, and, well, I got demoted. So I couldn't come back for you. Sorry about that."

"Oh. I…wondered, but, of course, I had no way of, of knowing. Are…are you alright?" She saw the look in his eyes. _Still something there, after all this time._

"I'm fine." She glanced at his granddaughters. "But things are different for us both now. Now I can't collect…you know. And I know you've moved on."

"Uh, yeah. I, I have." He hesitated. This was kinda awkward. "Well, I, uh, have to get the girls back. Their mother will give me He—*, uh, I mean, give me grief if I don't get 'em in by bedtime."

"Yeah. Well, just wanted to let you know…I remembered."

Now he smiled his own bittersweet smile. "You know what? Maybe that's what it's all really about, anyway. Somebody to remember us, after."

 _Maybe it is._

She followed them out into the street, at a distance, the cool night air caressing her cheek. Forty-seven years…he'd almost been her first.

Then she saw the scarred up minivan pulling in closer. Her own vision, like Grif's, could determine far more than mere photon interference. She could see into the souls of the men in the van. A kidnapping attempt?

Oh, _Home_ , no. "No, you don't! He's _mine!_ " And she stepped out into the street and gave the van a perfectly timed kick…

With a resounding _booom_ , the van lifted off the ground as though a bomb had gone off beneath it, flying across the street, turning over and over, crashing into the side of the Savings and Loan building on the far side. The men inside were still alive, but they wouldn't be going anywhere under their own power anytime soon.

She gave a stunned Roger a push. "Go on, get your girls to safety. Go." She saw then off into the cab, then turned as the first police car arrived. She slipped back into the bowling alley, unnoticed.

Rejoining the group at the refreshment stand, she was rewarded by a suspicious look from Grif. He glanced out toward the street, turned back to her with a raised eyebrow, but said nothing. She knew he'd scanned and perceived the incident outside. Probably give her grief when he got her alone. Ah, so what else was new. "Well, I suppose we'd best be going," he said, getting up. The others followed.

"So soon?" Jillian pouted. "I was just starting to have fun."

He leaned closer, and whispered. "You have much more 'fun' like that, and the mortals will call out the military. They might, anyway." He turned to the others. "Follow me."

Leading them out into the street, Carly and the rest—except for Jillian—stared and rubbernecked at the van, still on its side on the far side of the street. An ambulance had pulled up, and the medics were busy using the "jaws of life" to prize open a door. The police had formed a cordon around it.

Grif led them down the street. Nobody seemed to notice them; in fact, they passed right through the middle of the crowd without anyone so much as looking at them.

Grif's apartment: Sam and a reluctant Spencer had excused themselves, with Carly telling them she'd join them back at the apartment shortly. "Okay," Grif said, addressing Jillian, who was seated on the couch. " _What_ was _that_ all about?"

"What, don't you know? I thought you angels had that, like, special sight."

"We do. Who was that man you went up to?"

She sighed. "His name's Roger Talltree. Forty-seven years ago…he was nearly my first soul. That's who. And those were his granddaughters with him."

"I see. And you just went up to speak, huh?"

"Well, yeah. What's wrong with that? He was nearly my first! That's…important to us. But I guess you couldn't know that."

"Drawing attention to yourself…."

"Would you really rather I'd let somebody put the snatch on his grandkids? C'mon. Cut me some slack here."

"Grif, I hate to say it, but…" Carly didn't want to take sides in this, but she found herself actually siding with Jillian, at least with her stated intentions.

 _I'm actually siding with a demon from Hell against my angel boyfriend. Talk about messed up._

He calmed down, however. "To be honest…I can't condemn your actions. I just wish you'd been a little less….obvious."

"Trust me, nobody saw anything they'll believe. Except Roger, of course. And…and I trust him." She looked down at her hands in her lap, her expression unreadable.

"Alright. Well, Carly, I guess I'd best be getting you home. Jillian, you've the run of the apartment, but don't leave. I'll stop by Chez Lounge and get you something to eat on the way back. Remember what I said about the rules."

"Okay, okay, already. Geez. I got it the first dozen times." After they'd left, she picked up the remote for the TV, and, bored almost to tears, flicked through the channels, for lack of anything better to do.

She came across a zombie marathon, _28 Days Later, World War Z,_ and George Romero's classic _Night of the Living Dead,_ shown back to back along with its many sequels. Immediately, she perked up. "Oh, good. The comedy channel."

 _To be continued…._


	14. Chapter 14: Interrogation

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 14: Interrogation

…

 _I don't own iCarly._

… _._

Chapter 14: Interrogation

"Grif, what will you do with Jillian, anyway?" Grif was seeing Carly to her door.

He shrugged, trying to reassure her. "Oh, the whole matter will probably sort itself out. She's here accidently, so we'll just arrange for her to go back to Hell. End of story."

"You really think it'll be that simple?"

He deflated visibly. "No, not really."

…..

Back at Grif's apartment: Jillian was getting bored with the zombie movies. They seemed like they were all basically the same, anyway. Just the details differed.

She became aware of being watched, and looked around. Over on the arm of the scuffed-looking armchair was a small rat, looking at her intently. _Too bad I promised to leave the animals alone,_ she thought. Animals, especially those blessed with higher cognitive functions, such as self-awareness, could be "persuaded" to produce some good, strong emotions. Just a little pain….

 _Hello, lady. Who are you?_ The rat watched her, twitching its nose whiskers.

"I'm no 'lady.' I'm a demon, and if you know what's good for you, you'll get lost."

 _I'm Stuffins. I live here._

"Yeah, Grif told me about you and the cat."

 _Songer's a nice cat._

"Please. I've had all the 'nice' I can stomach for one eon."

The rat watched her a bit longer, not saying a word. Then, _Why are you so sad, lady?_

"Huh?" Jillian had been leaning on the arm of the sofa, an expression of boredom on her face. Now she perked up a bit. "What did you say?"

 _Why are you so sad?_

Sad? Her? Where had _that_ come from?

 _Lady?_

"Look, rat, I told you, I'm no-*"

 _You were never alone, lady. Never._ And with that, Stuffins ran down the chair arm, scampered across the floor to the pantry, and disappeared into the cupboard, all in the time it took Jillian to process what had happened. Never alone? What did-? "Hey, come back here! What did you mean…." But the rat was gone.

Jillian threw herself back onto the sofa, stunned. What had all _that_ been about?

….

Somewhere that was also Nowhere: What for lack of a better term would be called space roiled. Time started, stopped, ran in reverse, and disappeared altogether. Had there been any observers there, they would have experienced a kind of shockwave, like an earthquake, but a thousand times more powerful.

An earthquake, or Something giving birth.

….

Chez Lounge: {{So that is the situation as it is,}} Jemiah told Darian. {{Your accident-prone demon managed to get herself kidnapped, for lack of a better word, by the Darkness. Fortunately for her, my nephew was able to rescue her.}}

Darian benDarian snorted. {{That's as may be, but you fail to mention the obvious: evidently, by all the available evidence, it was your meddling in matters Eternal that brought about this incursion in the first place. And I'm given to understand the Earth realm did not escape unscathed.}}

{{Whether or not Gryphon is to blame for these recent troubles is a moot point. What do you wish us to do with your demoness?}}

{{Personally, it would please me no end for you to keep her. But the Black Throne wishes to interrogate her in person, to assess the threat these new developments may have brought about.

{{And, although it matters not at all to me, you may wish to consider the very real possibility that you and your home universe may not be beyond the reach of whatever is transpiring. Already, the suggestion has been made, by some of us, to secure our assets and close the gates. That is unprecedented, as I'm sure you know.}}

Jemiah's mental "tone" turned grim. {{Indeed it is. I have heard of no reports of incursions into our realm, but there has been at least one, here in the Earth dimension. We are in a state of alert.}}

{{As well you should be. Very well. We will arrange for Jillian Adara's return. I'll notify you as to the time and place.}}

{{Very well.}} And Jemiah closed the connection, pinching the bridge of his nose. Communicating with Hell's hierarchy always gave him what to mortals would seem like a sick headache.

And he found himself wondering about Darian's words. Had Gryph stirred up the Darkness, somehow? The evidence seemed to indicate that he had.

….

"So what have you found out?" Dr. Weston was conferring with the military attaché who was in charge of the investigation into the Mt. Adams incident.

" _Practically nothing, I'm sorry to say. We know an explosion took place, but we can't determine what kind of explosion. There's no trace of radioactivity, no sign of normal high explosives, and no evidence of volcanism. There's just a big hole where the top of Mt. Adams used to be. We've got search teams scouring the area, but so far, we've found a whole lot of nothing."_

"Major, in your opinion, what do you suppose we're looking at?"

" _Off the record?"_

"Off the record."

" _Something new. Maybe, God forbid, a new kind of explosive, or a new geological principle, or, or, for all I know, space aliens. Take your pick. But right now, the only things we know for sure about it is what it's_ _not._ _"_

"I see. Keep us appraised, will you?" And with that, Weston broke the connection. He turned to his colleague, Dr. Phillips. "Well? What about you? Ideas, suppositions, insane guesses, anything?"

Phillips leaned dangerously back in his office chair, and Weston watched in alarm. It wouldn't be the first time his accident-prone friend had managed to fall completely out of a chair. "Off the record? I think the major's last supposition is beginning to make more sense.

"All these things are connected, George. The timer, the explosion…I just feel like it's all of one piece. And do you remember, just after the discovery of the bomb, the local ER got in several admits who were stone blind? No physiological reason for it. They said some young man did something to them, but whatever he did, he didn't touch them. There's nothing wrong with their eyes; they just can't see through 'em.

"And the evidence points towards their being the ones who planted the bomb. Now, look at our theorized time line: this guy—whoever, whatever he is—finds this bomb, and, and does something to it. Makes time stop for it, somehow. Then he goes and blinds the people responsible for the bomb. How'd he know who they were, and how'd he find them so fast?

"So maybe not aliens—even though that shot of him was blurred, he didn't look like any alien—but, but maybe a time traveler? That would be in keeping with his stopping time for the bomb….but I don't have a clue about the blindness. Or the explosion."

"So this guy we're looking for is…an alien? Or a time traveler?"

"Why couldn't he be both?"

…

"Alright." Gryph had just finished conferring with his Uncle Jemiah. Jillian waited, nervously. Just because she hadn't been at fault didn't mean the Black Throne would excuse her of any wrongdoing. "Here's what going to hap-*" There was a knock at the door.

Puzzled, he looked beyond the door. Carly was standing just outside. What? He'd left her back at her apartment…what was she doing back here?

He went to the door and opened it. "Carly? What is it?"

"Have you heard from Jemiah and the others yet?"

"Yes." He motioned to Jillian, standing in the middle of the room, her fingers interlaced together, moving restlessly. "I was just about to tell Jillian what I'd found out. Er, what brings you here? I thought you'd be in bed by now."

"I couldn't sleep. And, and…never mind. What did everyone decide?"

He turned, his stance including Jillian. "I'm to return Jillian, here, back to the city of Dis, just outside the sixth circle of Hell. There, she'll be interrogated by the Black Throne. I'll accompany her, of course, to vouch for her presence here as being an accident, one for which she cannot be blamed. It shouldn't take long."

Jillian sighed. "Yeah, but I'm still gonna get every book in Hell's library thrown at me. That's just the way they do things."

"As I said, I'll go with you," said Grif. "I can attest that none of this was your fault. Surely even the Black Throne can't blame you for being attacked by the Darkness."

"You obviously don't know the Black Throne very well."

"Harsh but fair?" asked Carly.

"More like 'harsh.'"

Carly looked up at Grif. "Grif, I'm coming, too."

" _What?_ No. Out of the question. Even with angelic protection, it's still dangerous. No, you're staying here."

"No." Carly's voice was quiet but self-assured. "I'm coming with you."

"Kid." Jillian spoke up, addressing Carly. "You don't know what you're letting yourself in for. Even, even if the Black Throne totally ignores you, Hell's a dangerous place, even protected. And unprotected, you wouldn't last a nanosecond in Hell."

"But I'll have protection. Won't I, Grif?"

He dithered. What was all this about, anyway? "Well, I mean, yeah, I can protect you from the elements, but it's still a completely unnecessary risk. Why would you even want to?"

Carly's eyes took on a long-range look, a thousand yard stare. "I…I don't know. I just know I have to. I don't know why."

"It's a bad idea, Grif." Jillian scowled. "Talk some sense into her. Use your angel powers or something."

"I can't use my powers to override somebody else's free will."

"Grif, I have to go. I don't know why, I just know I have to go."

He was silent for a long moment. Then, "Alright. Well, we shouldn't be long, no matter what. Carly, you stand over here, and Jillian, you stand over here." With them to either side of him, he concentrated, concentrated on going to a place he'd never, in his wildest imaginings, thought he'd ever go….

The first thing Carly became aware of, once the electric tornado around them had subsided, was fire. Everywhere she looked, she saw either fire or some sort of black basaltic rock. There were fires in the background, fires in the foreground, fires overhead, fires everywhere. It was like being in the middle of a raging forest fire—only a thousand times more so, because the fire seemed to be all around…but curiously, without any smoke. She couldn't feel the fire, directly, or the heat, but the psychological effect was almost overwhelming. Why _had_ she felt like she needed to accompany them here, to this horrid place?

They were standing in front of a titanic wall that curved inward, made of some short of metal, and which seemed to be segmented. The front gates were open, and there were two male demons, clad, like Jillian herself, in what she guessed was the standard demon garb: crimson tunic and trousers, black leather (?) belt and boots. Each of them carried a trident as long as they were tall, and they all wore what seemed to be dark capes that flowed behind and around them. These capes didn't seem to be really _real_ to Carly, somehow, and she remembered when Jillian had first appeared in Grif's apartment, she, too, had been sporting a similar cloak. She resolved to ask Grif what it was when she got a moment.

Another demon, one seemingly older than the other two, approached them from within the city. "You would be Angel Gryphon, returning our flotsam? The Black Throne is waiting." He saw Carly and frowned. "Who's this?"

"This is my mortal friend, Carly Shay. She asked to join this expedition, and I saw no logical reason to refuse." Grif smoothed over their conversation from before.

"Hm. My orders were to conduct you and our wayward demoness to the Black Throne. Nothing was said about any human groupies."

"Nonetheless, she is here. Now, shall we go? Or do you wish to keep the Black Throne waiting?"

The older demon shot him a dangerous look. "I don't need you to tell me how to do my job. Come with me, all of you." Even as he spoke, a large piece of the pumice-like basaltic rock broke free, and he gestured for them to climb on. "We can make better time this way, rather than walking."

Carly clung close to Grif, still wondering if this had been a wise choice on her part. Why _had_ she insisted on coming? This place was no vacation resort.

Over the streets of the city they flew. Carly looked down, as best and as carefully as she could. This would be a poor place to fall and injure oneself.

Plus she could sense the fantastic heat of the place. The interior of a star wouldn't have felt this hot. She could _sense_ the heat, in a strange sort of way, but it didn't harm her, somehow.

Down below: the streets were crowded with demons, most moving along in what appeared to be purposeful errands. Several of them looked up at the flying rock they were on, but seemed to accept it. Carly wondered if it was all that unusual a sight here. She didn't see anything resembling Earthly automobiles or the equivalent.

But there were also other creatures moving along the streets. These beings were anywhere from three to eight feet tall, powerfully muscled, with bright red skin, bald heads, with horns growing out of the temples. They wore nothing but loin cloths of what appeared to be animal skins. Each of them had tails, tails that ended in a wicked looking barb, and seemed to be prehensile….

"Those are devils," Jillian told her, quietly. Carly almost jumped; she hadn't even noticed the demon girl approaching. "They're a different species from us. We use 'em for manual labor." She shrugged. "They're strong, but not too bright. As long as they get proper direction, they're okay." She paused. "Though I'd advise you to stay away from them, however. They can be vicious." Carly had time to reflect on the idea of a _demon_ calling _something else_ "vicious".

Maybe it was a good idea to stay as far away from the devils as she could.

They approached an immense cathedral-like structure seemingly forged from solid black rock. It was so black that Carly found it a little hard to see, at least with her human vision; the black surface absorbed all light that fell upon it, making actually seeing it somewhat difficult.

Two demons stood guard outside the massive door that led into the building. Arrayed around them were somewhere between fifteen or twenty devils, all of the clutching spears, and gazing at the newcomers with a dull, but malignant, intelligence. None of them had tridents, which Carly had come to think was the standard here in Hell, and none of them had that strange black cape that the true demons did. "They don't have the, the cloaks?" she found herself whispering to Jillian.

"Shadowcloaks? Grief, no. And no tridents, either. Those are just regular spears they're holding. That's all they're allowed to be armed with. But those spears can make a human-kabob out of you." She glanced at a pale Carly out of the corner of her eye. "I doubt Grif would like that very much."

 _I know for a fact I wouldn't._ "What's a shadowcloak? And, and while we're at it, what's with the tridents, anyway? I mean, on Earth, demons are always depicted as having tridents, but I've never heard why."

"Study your ancient history. Poseidon, the old god of the sea. Carried a trident, because, in those days, tridents were used for fishing. Get it? God of the sea? Fishing? Except they got it backward. Mortals saw _us_ with tridents and made some wrong assumptions." Shrug. "Most worlds', most civilizations have similar things. They see us—or, I guess, angels—and they back-engineer it to fit their own beliefs.

"And the shadowcloaks are standard for all demons. We can use them to move between dimensions, teleport, you'd call it, among other things. And I'm babbling."

 _She's nervous._ Carly was pretty nervous herself, and she wasn't the one about to be interrogated by unguessable Powers. "Jillian, it'll be alright. You didn't do anything wrong—well, I mean you may have before, but, but not this time. Surely nobody can blame you for what happened. You did your job. You were just a, a bystander, a casualty." _I'm actually trying to console a demon from Hell._ But the truth was, aside from her snarky attitude, Jillian didn't seem like such a bad sort. In fact, she sort of reminded Carly of Sam, on a bad day.

"I don't need or want your pity, human. Remember, your kind are food to me. That hasn't changed." She stepped over to the other side of the flying boulder.

The flying rock slowed down and the demon that had accompanied them conferred with the demons at the gate. The whole while they were talking—which seldom employed actual speech, at least none Carly could hear (although, oddly enough, she was able to perceive some but not all, of the unspoken communication; she assumed Grif was "translating" and relaying it to her)—the devils clutched their spears and looked at her and Grif with undisguised malice, tinged with a kind of _hunger_ that made Carly extremely glad Grif was along.

The guardian demons finally drew back and opened the gate into the inner corridor. Still standing on their flying piece of rock, the quartet—Grif, Carly, Jillian, and the demon officer who'd first met them—levitated their rock down the vast black hallway, a hallway illuminated by inset alcoves that shot flame upwards towards the ceiling, again without any sign of smoke. Carly wondered if the flames themselves were illusory. How could any fire not produce smoke? But, of course, this wasn't regular fire…and this wasn't a regular place.

But the flames from the alcoves, as well as braziers hung at intervals, did serve to light their way into the massive complex. Carly was reminded of the long, long hallway in the movie, _The Wizard of Oz_. Except this was no cheery hallway with windows to jump out of, as the Cowardly Lion had done.

And jumping ship here might easily result in attracting the attention of the devils outside. Something told Carly that would be bad carried to the tenth power.

The arrived at a room seemingly surrounded by a wall of flame. _These people must really like fire._ Across from them was a boxy arrangement that didn't so much resemble a throne as it did a set of outdoor amplifiers, such as might be used for a major amphitheater-based rock concert. Several more such boxes flanked the main one, the ones on either side being not quite as tall as the central one, which appeared to be about three stories tall, if Carly's human vision could be relied upon, here in this strange place.

At no point did Carly see any living beings. There was no apparent actual seat, no actual throne; just these black boxes—or whatever they were-which she now saw were not amplifiers at all, simply about the right size and shape—and the fires all around. The interior of the vast chamber was lit on every side by the ever-present flames.

 **{{Jillian Adara. Step forward and present yourself.}}**

Carly heard Jillian gulp. Then the demon girl stepped forward, off the rock, which was now resting on the floor, bowed low, and replied. "I am Jillian Adara. I was in charge of guarding sector 37f of the lava fields, out by the northern end of-*"

 **{{We are familiar with this. Report on how you came to be in the Darkness.}}**

Another gulp. Carly almost felt sorry for the demon girl. She was so clearly discomfited by this situation. "I saw something I couldn't identify, couldn't get a good look at. I went to investigate. The next thing I remember is seeing someone's legs floating over me. I grabbed onto 'em…and they turned out to be his." She turned and nodded in Grif's direction. "He was investigating the Darkness, and, when he felt me grab hold of him, returned to the dimension he came from, the Earth dimension. I got pulled along, too."

 **{{And you remember nothing else? Nothing between the time you went to investigate the anomaly and your returning to consciousness in the Darkness? Nothing?}}**

"I, I….no, sirs, your excellences, I mean. It…it just happened so fast…"

 **{{Angel Gryphon. Do you verify this account? We charge you to speak the truth.}}**

Grif stepped forward. "Jillian's account is, as far as I know, accurate and truthful. While I am, of course, unaware of any incidents prior to escaping from the Darkness and, in the process, taking her with me, still, what she has said has been the truth as I understand it."

There was a rumbling sound that seemed to go back and forth between the strange box-like constructions in front of them. **{{So all are in agreement that demon Adara did not desert her post?}}**

"I would vouch for that."

 **{{Upon your honor as an angel?}}**

"Upon my honor as an angel."

 **{{Why?}}**

Grif was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

 **{{Why are you willing to vouch for this minor demon? She is of absolutely no consequence to you; her fate, whatever we decide it to be, need not concern you in the slightest. Why have you gone to such trouble as you have?}}**

"She is innocent of any wrongdoing in this matter. I believe her. I do not wish to see her punished for something she could not help. My kind need no other reason."

 **{{We note that you have tolerated her presence, a feat many of her own kind find difficult. Why is that?}}**

Grif looked startled. Where had _that_ come from? "Such a thing is hardly of any import in this matter, your excellences. It does not really matter."

 **{{We note you did not answer the question.}}**

"With all due respect, sirs, the question and its answer have no place in this conversation. However, the simple truth is that I understood her predicament, one she did not ask for."

Another rumbling sound. Carly noticed Jillian was pulling on her shadowcloak, trying to pull it around herself, almost like she was trying to hide. What was it with all these questions, anyway? What was with all that?

 **{{Demon Adara. We have decided. Step forward.}}** Obviously nervous, Jillian stepped up in front of Grif. **{{It would seem we find ourselves in a unique predicament. We have a report of an incursion into our realm by the Darkness, an unprecedented occurrence. The matter bears looking into. We will assign several of our top-ranking demons to investigate.**

 **{{Now for you. While you did not actually desert your post, you nonetheless displayed poor judgment in going to investigate alone. So we are demoting you further, to Third-level fire pit stoker.**

 **{{Perhaps there, you might ruminate upon your mistakes. Your many mistakes.}}**

Jillian was aghast. "Third level fire pit stoker! You can't do this to m-*, I mean, I mean, well, yes you _can_ , but, but I haven't done anything!"

 **{{Are you questioning our decision?}}** Carly could hear the menace in the "words."

Jillian hung her head. Again, Carly was moved to feel sympathy for her. "No, your excellences. I….I accept your decision."

And Carly found herself receding somehow, as though she was both there and not there. It was a sensation similar to a dream….

She found herself stepping forward, coming up beside the obviously distraught Jillian. She faced the Black Throne squarely. "Jillian must return with us, to the Earth dimension." Both Jillian and Grif looked at her, startled.

Carly could sense the Black Throne's attention being turned her way. **{{Identify yourself.}}**

Something high sang within Carly's soul. "I'm Carly Shay, of Earth. I'm the mortal girlfriend of Gryphon Stryder."

Another pause, while the rumbling sound reverberated between the box-like structures. Grif came up behind her. "Carly! _What_ are you _doing?"_ Jillian was looking at her with her jaw hanging open.

"I'm…I'm not sure, Grif. I only know Jillian's got to come back with us to Earth."

 **{{Why do you intercede on demon Adara's behalf?}}**

"I'm not sure why. I just know that, unless Jillian returns with us, to the Earth dimension….

"…then all the worlds, all the universes, both possible and not, will be in grave danger."

 _To be continued…._


	15. Chapter 15: Decisions

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 15: Decisions

…

 _I don't own iCarly…of course._

… _._

Chapter 15: Decisions

There was more rumbling, and Carly could feel some sense or set of senses probing her. It made her feel naked, even though she knew human nudity didn't have any meaning here. Psychologically, now….that was a different story. **{{You are sincere in this.}}** Carly said nothing. Neither did the other two, being in what looked to be a kind of shock.

The Black Throne rumbled some more, and Carly was reminded of an Earthly thunderstorm back in Seattle. Seattle itself….home…seemed so distant now.

 **{{Very well. Demon Adara will accompany you back to the Earth realm. Demon Adara!}}** Jillian was snapped out of her funk at being addressed. **{{You will accompany Angel Gryphon back to Earth, and you will assist him in investigating this matter of the Darkness's becoming more active. You will report to him, and to us. How much aid you can give him will decide your fate. Do well, and you will be reinstated at your previous rank, and be allowed to collect souls. Fail, and….the fire pits await. Have we made our decision clear?"**

Carly could hear the demon girl's gulp from several feet away. She cast a look at Gryphon, and the faintest expression of nausea rippled over her face. "Are—are you absolutely sure the third level fire pit stokers couldn't use an extra hand?"

 **{{Angel Gryphon. While we have no jurisdiction over you, it is our wish that you will work with demon Adara. Perhaps she can be of service to you.}}**

"I…understand, sirs, your excellences. It…it will not be an easy adjustment for either of us."

 **{{Things that are easy are seldom worthwhile. We know you will be investigating this matter of the Darkness's incursion into both our universes as well as the Earth realm where you live. Jillian Adara can prove useful to you…or so your human consort seems to believe. Make the most of her presence there.**

 **{{You have said you do not wish for her to be punished for that which she did not do. This is how you will prove this. In this way, you will assist her in becoming reinstated into our society…if that means anything to you.}}**

Grif bowed slightly, not the full bow Jillian had done, but rather one of respect. Technically, he did not bow to these authorities at all. This was simply protocol. "I will do what I can."

 **{{Good. You may return to your point of entry.}}**

All the way back, Carly was acutely conscious of the stares of Jillian, and of Grif. Why had she spoken up as she did? It was like she wasn't the one doing the talking….the words, the feelings came from _somewhere else._

She didn't even _like_ Jillian. So why had she spoken up in her defense?

…..

Earth, Grif's Apartment: "Okay," said Jillian, just now getting herself under control. "Now what?"

Grif turned to Carly. "Carly, what was _that_ all about?"

"Grif, I don't know any more than you do. It—it was just like….the words just came to me, and I had to say 'em. I don't know why."

"Well," he said, rubbing his chin, "It looks like Jillian will be with us for a while yet." He turned to the demon girl. "Ground rules still apply. No predation, no feeding off others. Don't hurt anybody. And….I'm sure I'll think of some more as I go along."

Jillian was unusually silent. She'd gone and sat over on the couch, hands in her lap, expression downcast, not meeting any of their gazes. "Got it," she said. "Basically, if it feels good, don't do it."

"I'm sure they'll be exceptions, but that'll make a good rule of thumb for now. I'll check with Uncle Jemiah about food for you, but that shouldn't be a problem."

Still Jillian looked downcast. Carly had never seen the demoness look so….was _dispirited_ the right word? Discouraged, maybe? "So…now what? I'm to work with you, to investigate this encroachment by the Darkness…how do we go about doing that? I hope you aren't expecting _me_ to go down into that, that place!"

"No, I'm not. But first things first. Tomorrow, we find you a place to live. I get funds from home, but I doubt the Black Throne will cut you the same deal. But we'll see what we can find. And, in the meantime…." And here he cast a speculative eye on Carly, "maybe a good cover story is that you're working on a report or something on highly rated web shows. Carly, would you mind allowing Jillian to observe you, Sam, and the others in action?"

Carly was taken aback. Ever since she'd spoken up, in front of the Black Throne (whoever and whatever that was; she still wasn't sure), she'd still been processing what had happened. Where had those words come from? All worlds, all universes, in danger? Why had she said that?

But Grif's words shocked her out of her reverie. "Uh, well, I, uh, guess not…." Then she remembered Spencer. "Oh, wait…."

Both Grif and Jillian saw her concerns in her mind simultaneously. Jillian spoke up first, rolling her eyes. "Oh, I'll leave him alone. I wasn't ever gonna hurt him anyway. I just wanted to, to have some fun. You know. Just like a human would, on a date. We don't…we don't have that custom, and it's kinda fun to, to be around someone like that, doing things together. But if it'll make you more comfortable, I'll keep my distance."

"Good deal." Carly straightened up, and looked at Grif. "Mind taking me back to the apartment? I'm about out on my feet."

…..

The next few days were hectic. Grif managed to find Jillian an apartment in the same complex as his own, but several doors down. He helped her sign the papers, and paid the deposit and installment fees, clearly to her chagrin. She obviously hated being indebted to an angel.

But Carly noted that Jillian's overall demeanor remained subdued. She almost wished for the old snarky demoness back; this new version was…a little pitiful. Of course, Carly reminded herself, that might be the whole idea, since demons fed on emotions. Getting people to feel sorry for her could be a ploy to get a snack.

When Spencer heard that Jillian would be staying a bit longer, he could hardly contain his excitement. He helped Sam, Grif, and Carly move the demoness into her new digs. "This is great! I get to show you around Seattle! You're gonna love it here…"

"Uh, well, Spence….there's a problem with that," she said, pulling him off to one side. Carly and Grif watched, cautiously, from the side. "I'm afraid we can't see each other anymore."

Spencer was devastated. " _What?_ Why?"

"It's just…it's complicated. But I'm gonna have to devote my time—all of it—to this project I'm working on, and it just won't leave any left over for, for recreation." _Can't very well tell him I promised to stay away from him, not without blowing our cover._ "Believe me, it's nothing to do with you. You…that other night was a great deal of fun for me, the most I've had in a long time. But, I just won't have the time for things like that anymore. I can't explain it any better than that."

"Oh." Spencer was crestfallen. "I…guess I see. Well, uh...I guess that's that, huh?" _I guess this is a variation on the old "it's not you, it's me" send-off._

"I'm sorry, but, yeah, that's that." Her eyes followed him as he turned and walked away, dejectedly. After a moment, she looked away.

 _First time somebody's negative emotions hurt me, too._

…

The investigation team waited, their arms tied behind them, as their captors stood about, apparently not saying anything, yet Major Hendricks received the distinct impression that they were communicating in some silent way.

The team had been swiftly attacked and overwhelmed. The attackers appeared to be human-like beings wearing bright red tunics, black cloaks that fluttered in no breeze, black square-toed boots and belts, and carrying wicked-looking tridents, of all things. There was no sign of any sort of other weapon, no guns, knives, or anything else that one would normally consider standard. They'd descended upon the team with the suddenness of a lightning bolt, seemingly appearing from nowhere, overpowering both the scientists and the soldiers. There was simply no resisting their incredible strength and speed. After securing the prisoners, they'd just _stood_ there, as though waiting, ignoring the humans' demands for an explanation. Major Hendricks, who was in charge of the military unit attached to the investigation team, couldn't shake the impression that these…beings…communicated by some means other than sound, judging from their facial expressions when they faced each other.

Finally, one turned to him, and spoke in clear, unaccented English. "You. You are in charge of this expedition?"

"I am. What's the meaning of this?"

"As a matter of fact, we're doing the same thing you are: investigating an anomaly. But you got here first, which means you've had time to gather more information. You will now share it with us."

"You've an incredibly poor way of asking. It could really use some improvement. I could recommend some outstanding people skills classes… Besides, we haven't found out anything, anyway. So you're wasting your time with us."

"Not necessarily." Here, the leader knelt down in front of Hendricks, his trident planted hilt-first on the ground in front of him, and transfixed him with an unbelievably probing stare. After a few minutes of silent inspection, during which Hendricks felt _most_ uncomfortable, the leader turned to the others and said, "It appears we must find a Drs. Phillips and Weston. We must find out what they know."

One of the others, a female, attired just as the others were, asked, "What of these? Can we kill them?" There was an undercurrent of eagerness in her voice than sent chills down Hendricks' spine.

The leader looked back at the prisoners, tied with some strange substance that was not rope, and that seemed to contract and relax automatically to maintain its optimum position, keeping them immobile, but without binding or chaffing. "No," he said, finally. "Not yet, anyway. They could still prove to be useful. For now, we must find Phillips and Weston. You, you, and you," he said, pointing out three of the seven that had originally attacked. "You will track down these humans. The rest of you…see to the confinement of these here. Under no circumstances are they to leave or communicate with anyone. Meanwhile, I'll report to the Black Throne." And so saying, his cloak flipped up and around him, and he disappeared.

The others he'd delegated did likewise, the cloaks seemingly flapping up and over them on their own…and they were gone as if they'd never been there.

That left three to guard the prisoners. "Who _are_ you people?" whispered Hendricks. He knew no country, no one, had the technology, the ability to do what he'd just witnessed.

One of the ones left behind gave him an odd look. "We're an investigative team, just like he said. We're from a place you call Hell, and we were sent to look into this phenomena, just like you, although for our own reasons, of course." He paused, raising an eyebrow and smiling slightly. "And it occurs to me that if you're _very_ lucky, and if you behave yourselves, you'll be allowed to come back to Hell with us."

 _This is clearly a definition of "luck" they neglected to mention back at West Point,_ thought Hendricks, even as he struggled, uselessly, with his bonds.

 _To be continued…._


	16. Chapter 16: Catastrophe

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 16: Catastrophe

….

 _I don't own iCarly._

… _.._

Chapter 16: Catastrophe

Carly sought out Sam and explained the matter to her. "So, Jillian will be 'observing' us. That's her cover story, anyway."

"What about Spencer? He's got the hots for her, you know."

"She was supposed to break it off with him, tell him she couldn't hang out with him anymore." Carly sighed. "I'm…not sure how that's going to work out, with her being here on a regular basis.

"I'm just gonna have to tell him and Freddie the truth about Grif, and Jillian." Another sigh. "How successful I'll be at that, I don't know yet. I had a hard time convincing you, and you know me almost better than I know myself, Sam."

Sam thought. In truth, she still had her doubts about this whole "angel" thing…but she had to admit, the evidence was convincing. But the others? "So…you're gonna tell Spencer first? I mean, he's probably gonna be the hardest to convince."

"I know. And there's no time like the present…"

Spencer came home shortly after that. Both Sam and Carly thought he looked disconsolate; well, they could both sorta understand that. Here, he thought he'd found someone with whom he could connect, and she basically gave him the brush-off. "Spencer? There's something we need to talk about."

"Can't it wait?"

"I don't think so. How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"How'd things go with Jillian?"

He scowled. "She doesn't want to see me anymore. I guess I should've expected this. I just didn't expect it so soon."

"Spence….come over here and sit." Carly indicated a place beside her on the couch. Sam sat beside him, a serious expression on her face. "I've some things to tell you, things I've been meaning to tell you for some time now, but just never found the right time. But now's the right time. I think…it'll help you get over Jillian. I've already told Sam, and she can corroborate with what I'm about to say."

He sat. "I'm all ears." Neither one of them had ever seen him _this_ down before.

"Spence…and this is gonna be kinda unbelievable, I know, but…." And she told him about Griffin, or Gryphon, as he was really called, being an angel, who'd accepted the assignment of being Earth's guardian angel, one dedicated to the protection of the planet as a whole. She didn't get into Jillian's true identity just yet, sensing that she'd already dumped too much on him for one evening.

After she finished, he just sat there, sitting forward, hands clasped between his knees, his face unreadable. Finally, he spoke up. "You know, I stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago, Carly. Was this fantasy supposed to make me feel better?"

"It's no fantasy, Spencer," said Sam, quietly, from the other side. "I thought it was a big windy myself, at first, but now I'm convinced."

He snorted. "So the guy who stole my bike is an angel? I'm supposed to believe that?"

"Spencer, do you think I'd lie to you? Especially about something like this?"

"Well, I _didn't use to._ But now…."

"I felt the same way, when Grif first told me. I thought for sure he was lying to me, to, to break up with me. But he wasn't. Now. Do you think I'm lying to you?"

But he was shaking his head. "I dunno, Carly, maybe it's some form of hypnosis or something…"

"Look, there's only one way to go from here." And Sam pulled out her Pear phone and speed-dialed Grif. "Grif? Sam here. Would you mind zapping over here? We gotta situation."

Spencer jumped as the electric tornado appeared almost right in front of him. When it had subsided, Grif stood there, holding the remains of a sandwich he'd been eating. "Grif, we're trying to explain to Spencer about….things. And we're running into the same problems Carly had with me. So do your thing, would'ja?"

Grif looked squarely at Spencer. "Spencer, I'm sorry to have had to deceive you all this time, but I and my people are supposed to keep our presence here a secret. The reason I stole your bike was solely because that action fit in with the disguise I had adopted on this world. But what they have been telling you is the truth: I am an angel, in charge of Earth's guardian Host. I know that isn't an easy thing to accept, but it is true."

Spencer's mouth was hanging open. "You…you just appeared…. _how'd you do that?"_

"Part of my essential nature. And, speaking of my nature, it isn't my nature to lie to you. I can do it, but it…it's painful for me. So what I am telling you is the truth."

Spencer leaned forward and put his face in his hands. "Carly. You're _just now_ telling me this? You told Sam _first?_ I'm your _brother. Why?"_

Carly rubbed her hand over his back in what was intended to be a consoling gesture. "Spence, this whole thing has been a 'learn as you go' sort of deal. Maybe I should've told you first. But I'm telling you now."

Spencer felt numb. Too many shocks in one sitting… "But what's this got to do with Jillian?"

Grif was sitting on the arm of the couch where the other three were. "First things first. Do you believe I'm an angel?"

"Yeah…no…oh, I don't know what I believe anymore."

"Well, I am. And one reason I'm here is to investigate something we call the Darkness. That's a place….there's no real describing it. It's a place where reality itself…unravels, I guess you could say. Sometimes souls—human souls—get trapped in the Darkness. If somebody doesn't rescue them, they cease to be."

Spencer suddenly looked up. "Prove you're an angel."

"How would you like me to prove it?"

"I, I don't know. What do angels do, throw lightning bolts? Just _do_ something." There was an undercurrent in his voice almost of desperation. He was torn between wanting to believe, believing and not believing, and he didn't know which to choose.

"Throwing lightning in this confined space wouldn't be wise. But what I can do…" He looked thoughtful for a moment, "What I can do is allow you to see a portion of my essence, to see me the way I really am, at least in part."

"You can?" Carly looked surprised. He'd never mentioned that before.

"Wait," Sam held up a cautionary hand. "I've read stories about…seeing supernatural beings in their true state. Is this safe?"

"It is if I don't go overboard." He put his sandwich down and moved to the center of the room. "Ready?"

"Uh, sure," said Carly. "Lay it on us." _Never a dull moment…_

And Grif began to glow.

At first, it was a mild illumination, as if an overhead light had focused on him. But it grew stronger, and, in its brilliance, it almost seemed as though he were clad in a suit of golden armor. And still the brightness increased…

The trio found they couldn't at nor look away from the incredible light. Light that intense ought to sear the optic nerve, but on some level each of them realized they weren't seeing with just their eyes anymore.

" _This is me, Spencer. At least, the most of me that I can show you without causing you harm. This is what I am, Carly, Sam."_ The awesome glow began to fade, and soon Grif stood before them once again, wearing his usual jeans and jacket, just as they'd seen him before.

Spencer was looking shell-shocked. "Dude, you….you're…you're really an…." And then he abruptly sat down on the couch, his expression almost frighteningly blank. Carly and Sam took turns jiggling him, trying to get some reaction out of him, but, for all intents and purposes, it was as though he was unconscious, except that his eyes were open, staring straight ahead.

Carly turned to Grif, angrily. "What'd you _do_ to him, anyway? I thought you said it wasn't dangerous!"

"It's not." He moved over to Spencer. "What he's experiencing is what's called the impact of the Numinous. He's just been confronted, point blank, with a reality, the reality of the supernatural, that he never gave much thought to before, and that he wasn't ready to face, like a lot of humans. It affects different people in different ways. He'll recover; it'll just take him a little time to process what he's just seen—on more than one level."

Carly turned to Spencer. "C'mon, Spence. If Sam and I could take it…"

"You and Sam had some forewarning. And, as I said, it affects different people different ways."

"Angel…." Muttered Spencer. "A real freakin' angel. How…"

At that exact moment, there was a knock on the door. Sam crossed over the room and let Freddie in. "Hey, did you guys ever decide on a script for that western scene?" He looked at Spencer. "What's wrong with him?"

"Uh, not now, Freddie. Spencer's…uhm, well, I guess you could say he…uhm, I, I don't quite know how to put it…"

"He's not having a seizure, is he?" Freddie went over to Spencer, who was still staring straight ahead, his mouth hanging open. Freddie pried one of Spencer's eyelids open a bit farther. "Pupils are dilated…."

"Freddie, maybe it's a good thing you're here. Spencer just got some…news that sorta shocked him…."

Freddie's face blanched. "Oh, god. Please tell me he didn't get Jillian pregnant or something."

"No, no, nothing like that! It's just…" Carly sat back down by Spencer, while Sam moved to sit with Freddie. Two astral KO's in one night would strain both their abilities. Carly took a deep breath. Grif waited calmly, still eating the rest of his sandwich. "Freddie. Grif…is an angel. A real one. Like the kind that flies, you know. And, and Spencer….when we told him…." She gestured towards her brother, still sitting on the couch, shell-shocked.

Freddie, sitting beside Spencer, looked up at Grif. "You mean, you're not an alien?"

"No. I'm an angel."

Freddie leaned back in the couch, closing his eyes. "Crap. I was hoping you were an alien."

Sam stared at him, goggled-eyed. "You mean, you…believe it? Just like that?"

"Well, yeah. No way that router was human tech. So." He looked up at Grif. "Angel, huh? That's cool. Better than being a time traveler or something. This way you don't have to worry about the grandfather paradox."

"The which?" This from Sam.

"Paradoxes created by time traveling." He waved her questions away. "Tell you about it sometime. But…yeah. Angel. That's cool." He looked back at Spencer. "So…what did you say was wrong with Spencer?"

…..

Across town, in the Worldcorp building, Devlin Bendarian sensed Grif's actions. _What is that fool angel up to now?_ Since time immemorial, both sides had adopted a policy of secrecy from the humans who thought they ruled the third planet from the sun. He knew the angels didn't want to be revered as gods…and demons had their own reasons for keeping secrets.

But now it seemed like the silly creature was _advertising_ his presence to the world in general. What _was_ he thinking?

He probed a bit. Oh, yes, that little vixen of a demon had already worked her own particular kind of magic on the girl's brother, and been required to cease and desist. Naturally, the brother was hurt by what he perceived as rejection. So the idea had been to reveal the truth about both Gryphon and Jillian's nature to their whole group, in the hopes that it would assuage Spencer's hurt feelings. And, Devlin could tell, Sam was with them, observing the entire display. Just the usual Jillian Adara Screw Up.

Devlin muttered an epithet in a language that had been ancient when the first light from the Big Bang had barely begun to make its way across what was rapidly turning into time and space. The shock waves from the "sound" of it reverberated across the entire building, causing the humans who worked there to wonder about earthquakes.

Now he had no choice. Not if Sam was to be safe.

…..

Drs. Phillips and Weston were both tied to their respective lab chairs, as the strange humanoids who'd captured them rifled through their files. Encrypted files or no, it didn't seem to matter. The security detail, previously thought to be adequate, was just down the hallway, similarly bound. Weston hoped that none of them had been harmed; something about these strange, red-garbed figures told him they wouldn't have a problem with taking a human life.

"Hm." Said the leader, "You really _haven't_ found out very much, have you? Tsk. Apparently our foray into your dimension was for naught….unless there's some information to be gathered at the site itself." He turned to the two scientists. "You possess no information that is all that useful to you, nor, judging by your primitive techniques, are you likely to acquire such. So now the question becomes, what to do with you?"

"I don't suppose," said Dr. Phillips, "that we could convince you since we've seen nothing, and know nothing, that you could just let us go?"

The leader nodded. "You might. But you have seen something, even if you didn't know what it was. Perhaps I had best confer with my superiors before making any," an unnerving smile, "decisions of a permanent nature."

…

Sam had agreed to meet with Devlin in the coffee shop they'd come to frequent, even as Spencer was still recuperating from his "shock treatment" in learning that Grif was an angel. She shook her head. She was debating on whether or not to share that factoid with Dev, see what he thought of it.

He was already there when she arrived. "Ah, Sam. I took the liberty of ordering your favorite: cappuccino and a Danish."

She took the seat opposite him. "Thanks, Dev." In a universe where everything seemed to be going crazy, Devlin was like an anchor to her.

They chatted a bit. "So what have you heard about Carly's father?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing concrete. He's supposed to be in the process of being discharged from sub duty. Nobody's said anything about any new assignment, but I don't think he's retiring."

"How is this affecting you?"

"How? How do you suppose? I mean, it's like you said: the old gang is breaking up. I…I'm still having some problems with that." She looked down at her cappuccino. "I guess….I'm holding up. But I'm ashamed."

"Ashamed?"

"Yeah. I mean, this is what Carly's been waiting for, for them to get together as a real family again." She scowled down into her cup. "The problem's me."

Devlin consulted his future selves. But none of them had been in this exact predicament before. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained…and she had to know sooner or later. "Sam, I have something to tell you, about myself. It's very important."

"Oh?" She was mystified. Something he had to tell her about himself? Was he maybe being transferred to some other branch of WorldCorp, maybe halfway across the country? Would they ever see each other again? Instinctively, she tensed, readying herself for bad news…..

And just at that very moment, an intense shuddering went throughout the entire region, and the sun disappeared.

In her apartment: Jillian was totally miserable. It had been good, seeing Roger at the bowling alley, but now she was stuck babysitting an angel, of all things. If the Black Throne had been _trying_ to totally humiliate her, they couldn't have done a better job.

And…and, yes, she found herself missing Spencer. They'd had some fun together. In Jillian's world, "fun" wasn't very commonplace. Avarice ruled, and advancement was all there was.

Completely out of character for her, she found herself _sorry_ she'd had to break up with him. Usually, emotions were food to her, both positive and negative. But Spencer's negative emotions—his dejection—had actually _hurt her._

Oh, well. Probably just a freak accident. Had to be. She was a demon; demons don't _get_ hurt.

Suddenly, a feeling, an intuition, sprang into her mind: Spencer was in danger. Like, really bad danger. Not a mugging or anything, but something far worse. She jumped up off the sofa she'd been resting on, watching "The Big Bang Theory," and let her shadowcloak spring back to full length, even as she grabbed her trident, activating it. To home with her promises; if Spence was in danger, she was there.

And then it seemed like the world dropped down about thirty feet or so.

Carly's apartment: Grif was just leaving when he felt the first upheaval. Instinctively, he formed a force-field around the apartment, but that didn't mask the effects of whatever was happening. It was like an earthquake, and yet, it wasn't.

"Grif! What's going on?"

"I don't know, Carly! Hang on—I'll contact Uncle Jemiah and Adriel…."

…

At the coffee shop: when he felt the first tremors, Devlin had immediately extruded his shadowcloak, and extended it around Sam. Anything—beam or material object-striking the outside of the shadowcloak would be instantly teleported far away. As the tremors subsided, the first thing he noticed was the complete lack of sunlight.

This was unheard of. Even as Sam was crouched within his shadowcloak (and wondering what the _bleep_ was going on), he endeavored to contact his Uncle BenDarian.

And couldn't.

….

Grif noticed the lack of sunlight at the same time he discovered he couldn't contact Jemiah or the other members of the Host. _What is going on?_ "Carly, where are the others?" It had been just the two of them in the apartment when the whatever-it-was had happened.

"I, I don't know! Sam said she had to, to meet someone, and I don't know where Spencer is! Grif! _Where did the sun go?_ "

"I don't know, Carly, but let's just stay calm, okay? We'll find out what's going on, I promise." But even as he said it, he wondered: Why couldn't he contact the other angels? This was unprecedented.

Unless….

He embraced her, pulling her close, his simple presence calming her. "Carly. It's vital that we find the others. Think. Where were they going?"

Spencer was sitting, an almost visible cloud of gloom hanging over his head, at the bar at the Groovie Smoothie, downing one raspberry banana delight after another, trying to see if he could "drown his sorrows" in something nonalcoholic. So far, it wasn't working. And Spencer didn't drink.

So. Griffin was an angel. And Carly hadn't seen fit to tell him until _just now._ He didn't see how this was supposed to make up for Jillian's dumping him. _Though I guess I ought to be used to it by now._ With that thought, he handed his cup back to the attendant. "Another banana delight, please?"

The shockwave caught him totally unprepared, and he found himself dumped out of his chair onto the floor. The counter, which was supposed to have been bolted to the floor, somehow ripped out of its moorings and fell on top of him, causing him to gasp. Fortunately, it didn't fall right on top of him, but enough of it rested on him to pin him to the thing was _heavy!_ He was trying to get some leverage to shift it off of him, or squeeze himself out…with no success.

"Here. Let me." A very familiar voice told him, causing him to gasp again.

" _Jillian?_ How'd you get here?"

"Never mind. Just hold still…." His eyes widened as she easily picked up the heavy counter and tossed it aside. "Wow. You must work out."

"Sorta. Now come on. We can't stay here." She offered him her hand to help him stand, even as she looked around. For the first time, he noticed the darkness outside. It was as though nighttime had fallen suddenly.

…..And….he couldn't see anybody else around, except for Jillian. The attendant behind the counter had disappeared, and there was nobody on the streets.

Grif was standing at the big picture window, looking out over the darkened city. The nighttime lights began to come on, but even as they did, some flickered and went out. It seemed to him as though only half of the street and business lights were actually blazing. He could only sense a handful of souls in the entire city. Why?

He looked up. No stars. Objects blacker than black moving through a sky of unbroken dark. "Carly….don't panic, now, but I think Seattle, or a part of it, has just been transported into the Darkness."


	17. Chapter 17:Reunion,and a Secret Revealed

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 17: Reunion, and a Secret Revealed

….

 _I don't own iCarly. It's really a crying shame._

… _._

Chapter 17: Reunion, and a Secret Revealed

"But, but what's happened?" Spencer was trying to comprehend it all. Where had everybody gone? Where had the _sun_ gone?

"It's….complicated, Spencer. I'll try to explain it as soon as I know what it is myself." She went before him, trident at the ready. _She's holding it like it's a weapon,_ thought Spencer. Why would she be doing that? For that matter, how'd she come by it, in the first place? _What was she doing with a freaking trident?_ "I'm not complaining, understand, but I thought you didn't want to see me anymore."

She sighed, even as she kept her guard up. They were on the street outside the Groovie Smoothie, and, Spencer admitted to himself, it was a little unnerving how there was _nobody_ else in sight. "It's complicated, Spencer. I didn't want to _not_ see you anymore. It was…just a good idea. It was supposed to be for your own protection."

"My own protection?"

"Is there an echo out here? Yeah, for your own protection. Grif and Carly…thought it would be best, and I had no choice but to go along with 'em. Now, c'mon. I don't sense anyone nearby, but we've got to find the others. I think I know where they'll be." She moved up beside him. "Now, don't panic or anything, but you're about to find yourself someplace else." And with that, she whipped that strange looking cape up and over them both…

"Spencer! I was so worried!" Carly flung herself onto her brother, who looked around, shocked. They were back at the apartment, with Grif giving Jillian a stern look.

"I thought you said you'd keep your distance."

"And I would have. But I sensed he was in danger, so I brought him here. Are you complaining?" He didn't say anything, but, from the look on his face, two different emotions were warring in his soul.

"Okay," said Spencer, disengaging from Carly. "What the _hell_ is going on here?" He didn't notice his sister flinch. "Why'd you guys make Jillian promise to stay away from me?"

Grif sighed. "Spencer, do you believe I'm an angel?"

"I guess I may as well. Why? What's that got to do with anything?"

"Because," Jillian spoke up, "I'm just the opposite. I'm a demon, Spencer. And they were afraid I'd steal your soul, or hurt you in some way."

Spencer looked at her levelly. The red tunic, the trident, the blacker-than-night cloak… "You're a demon."

"Yeah. If you're looking for horns, don't bother. No horns, and, as you can see," she gestured to Grif, "no halos, either."

He turned, fully facing her. "Demon, huh. So…was the other night all fake?"

She didn't answer for a long time. Carly and Grif both watched. Then, in a very small voice, almost a whisper, "No."

Spencer turned to Carly. "Carly, I'm a big boy. Are you really supposed to make my decisions for me? Is that the way you feel?"

"Spencer, you don't understand-*"

"How about if the tables were turned? Suppose I didn't want you hanging around Grif? Would I be out of line? After all, you are my _little_ sister. Or has that changed while I wasn't looking?"

Jillian spoke up. "Spencer, in all fairness, they were…only trying to look out for you. I can't steal souls—none of us can—but, but sometimes we, we _play_ with mortals. I guess she was afraid I'd be doing that." She wouldn't meet any of their gazes.

"And were you?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does. Tell me."

Another long silence. "No."

He turned to Carly. "What about Susan, two years ago? She played me like a violin. And to hear you tell it, I was the only one who didn't see it coming. You didn't say anything then."

"Yeah, but Spence, this is different…" Carly wrung her hands in exasperation.

Grif came up to them. "Spencer-*"

Spencer held up his hand. "Grif, all due respect, but stay out of this. This is between me and Carly."

Carly blew out a breath. "O- _kay_. _Alright._ You can make your own decisions—for better or for worse. I just was afraid you didn't know what you were getting into."

"Alright then." He pulled up a chair from the dining table. "So tell me. Tell me everything."

…..

" _What_ the hell was _that?"_ Sam was just then emerging from underneath Devlin's shadowcloak. "And, and where-*" The sudden change actually shocked Samantha Puckett into silence, a feat normally reserved for the Guinness Book of World Records.

"Come on, Sam. We've got to get out of here." She noticed he was carrying a trident as long as he was tall, made of some yellow material. He led her out into the silent streets. Looked up at the sky. "I'm very much afraid I know where we are. And it's the worst place we could possibly be."

"Where's that?"

"It's called the Darkness, Sam. And if it is—and I'm almost sure it is—we don't have long to exist here."

"Wait, wait. Carly was telling me something about the Darkness earlier. Her, her boyfriend claims to be an angel, supposed to be guarding the Earth from this Darkness…you mean, this _is_ the Darkness? We're _in it_?" Sam couldn't deny that there was something more than just a lack of light here. It was like something was drawing something out of her, sucking out something vital. Just a little now, but… "And, and just how do you know about the Darkness, anyway?"

He faced her squarely, there in the empty street. "That's what I was going to tell you, Sam. You've seen that Gryphon is an angel. And you know about Jillian, that she's a demon, correct?"

A wary look. "Y-yes…"

He sighed. "Well, I'm a demon, too."

She groaned. "What is this, Drive Sam Crazy month or something? You're no demon! I've known you since grade school!"

"Yes, you have. I decided then that I wanted your soul. I mean to have it. But the only way I can have it is if you give it to me voluntarily. I can't just take it.

"That's part of what I wanted to talk to you about, earlier."

She groaned again, looking around for something to sit on. There were fallen slabs of masonry littering the sidewalks; she sat on one of those and held her head in her hands. Her one rock-solid anchor with reality had just turned into silly putty.

"Excuse me a moment," he said, and was momentarily engulfed in flames. When they faded, he was attired in the same sort of uniform she'd seen Jillian wear: crimson red tunic, pants, black leather belt and boots. And holding his trident at the ready, looking around.

Sam was looking at him, shocked by the transformation, and also by the uniform he wore. It was identical to the one Jillian wore. "You…you really are a, a…"

"Yes, Sam, I am. But I'm not here to hurt you. I never wanted that." He moved over towards her. "Explanations will have to wait, but we need to go find your friends. I can't sense anybody else here but them. So it follows we—all of us—need to stick together."

Sam felt her temper starting to boil. "You _lied_ to me! All these years…..!"

"No, Sam, I never lied to you. It's true, I never told you the whole truth, but I never ever told you anything that wasn't true."

"You said you worked for WorldCorp!"

"I do. That's my uncle's business. It's, well, I guess you could say it's family owned and operated."

She sat there, her head still in her hands. All around her, the stillness, the silence, the dark…all took a back seat to this revelation. "I….I don't know what to think anymore."

He came up to her and knelt down in front of her. His expression was one of utmost sincerity. "Sam. It's true. I'm a demon. And I _do_ want your soul.

"But you have the totally wrong idea as to what that _means._ It _doesn't_ mean I want to condemn you to eternal torment. It _does_ mean I want to keep you _safe._ And, yes, it means I want us to be together. Forever.

"Now, I think we'd best go find your friends. Come on, okay? It's going to be alright, Sam. You've my word." But privately, he wondered: _would_ it be alright?

He hadn't been able to contact Uncle BenDarian. That boded ill.

For her part, Sam was still recovering from the shock. Here, someone she had been seriously considering to be boyfriend material….wasn't even human.

On the other hand, neither was Carly's. "This," she sniffled, hating herself for feeling this way, "this is gonna take some getting used to."

"I know. I was going to tell you anyway. That's the only way I could ever have your soul, Sam. You'd have to give it to me, freely and voluntarily, knowing what I am and what you'd be doing. In a way, it's kind of like a marriage."

Marriage? _Marriage?_ Sam had never given that any thought whatsoever. "You're…you're not serious."

"Well, at least let's go to the others. There's no point in standing around here. We need to pool our resources. Now, don't be alarmed, but I'm going to teleport us to Carly's apartment. Just close your eyes…"And he flipped his shadowcloak over them both…

"Sam? Is that you?" Carly was the first to notice the couple appearing out of thin air.

"Yeah, Carls, it's me. And boy have I got something to tell you."

Both Grif and Jillian were eyeing Devlin. "You," said Jillian, "You _utter bastard!"_ And with that, she launched herself straight at him in a clearly murderous attack.

 _To be continued..._


	18. Chapter 18: Deja Vu

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 18: Déjà vu

…

 _Still don't own, etc._

…

Chapter 18: Deja Vu

Jillian collided with a surprised Devlin, and the two began a knock-down slug fest. Jillian stabbed with her trident; Devlin caught it and blocked the blow. She swiveled in place, swinging the trident around, forcing him back, and on the defensive. She launched a kick that he expertly blocked, but then swept his feet out from underneath him, dumping him onto the floor. Only his own superhuman reflexes allowed him to roll out from under her trident when she brought it down, spearing the spot where he used to be. Jillian was no slouch when it came to the infighting, and wasn't holding back one little bit, while Devlin was mostly on the defensive, blocking her blows and kicks. They slammed each other back and forth across the room, their battle threatening to demolish the apartment, when Grif interjected himself between them. " _THAT'S ENOUGH!"_ The force of his voice caused the apartment to shudder.

Jillian turned to him. "'Enough? _Enough?_ You have _no idea_ what he did to me!"

"Well, _I_ certainly do," responded Devlin. "You were _breaking the law_. What did you _expect_ me to do?"

"Oh, I don't know. Mind your own business, maybe?" Jillian's words were dripping with venom.

"You were _stealing from WorldCorp._ That _is_ my business. Was I _supposed_ to just overlook that?"

"I _was not_ stealing from anybody! There's nothing that says we can't communicate with mortals! In fact, we're _supposed_ to, you, you-*"

"I _said_ that's enough!" Griffin's voice cut through the two shouting at each other. "All that's ancient history, as of now!" They both stopped their argument, and turned away from each other, still clearly angry. "Now look. I'm sure you've both noticed that we seem to be _in the Darkness_. That takes precedence over any personal disagreements you may have. Jillian!" The demoness turned her attention to him. "Have you been able to contact any of your people? Either of you? No? Well, neither have I. Which means we're on our own. We _don't_ need any infighting here. Once we get out, you two can go at it all you want, for all I care. _But now is not the time._ Understand?"

They both grumbled, but agreed. "You don't seem very surprised to see me, angel," said Devlin.

"I'm not, really. I saw enough of you in Sam and Carly's mind, not to mention Spencer's, to put two and two together."

"And you didn't _say_ anything?" This from Sam.

"What would I have said, that you'd have believed? But if he'd been hurting you, then yes, I would have."

"Well, anyway," said Devlin, "Now what? From what I'm sensing, we're the only living beings in this whole city."

"Freddie!" gasped Carly. "Where's Freddie? And Gibby?"

"I can't sense them. But if they're here, we'll find them. Now. Let me concentrate. I've _got_ to reach Uncle Jemiah, to find out what's going on."

But concentrate as he might, he could not reach Jemiah or Adriel. It was as though something were inhibiting his communication.

Nor were the two demons having any better luck. Normally, communication between dimensions didn't pose a problem, but now they seemed to. "I just had a thought, "said Devlin

"Be gentle with it," Jillian spat. "It's all alone in a very strange place." He ignored her.

"I know an investigative team from my world was supposed to be examining the site of the explosion of Mt. Adams. If this…area…extends that far, they may have been caught in it, too. If so, that would give us additional, well, 'signal strength.' I guess you'd say."

"That's a good idea. But first…let's check on Freddie and Gibby."

Grif led the way to the apartment Freddie shared with his mother. At the door, he paused, as though listening. "I don't sense anyone inside, but we have to make sure. Anybody got the key?"

"I do," said Devlin, moving up to the front. He placed the palm of his hand up against the door and gave a sudden push. The heavy, solid-wood door splintered down the middle, the pieces falling inward. At their looks, he shrugged. "It's a universal key."

They went into the apartment. "Freddie! _Freddie!_ Are you in here?" Both Carly and Sam were busy searching the rooms, and coming up empty.

"In here," said Spencer, standing in front of the main bathroom. He led them in, and they saw a supine Freddie, lying in the bathtub, fully clothed, his hands folded across his chest, his face relaxed. He looked frighteningly as though he'd been deliberately composed for a coffin. Sam ran up to him. "Freddie! Freddie, wake up!" She listened for his heartbeat, and checked his pulse. "He—he's breathing, but just barely. And, and his pulse is really slow."

"Let me see." Grif shouldered his way to the bathtub. He passed a hand over Freddie's face, moving downward on his torso. He shook his head. "He's barely alive. You others….see if his mother's here, somewhere." Carly and Sam both ducked out; Spencer remained with the group. "So…what's wrong with him? Why isn't he, like, conscious? Or something?"

Grif shook his head. "It could be shock, from the transition, but that wouldn't account for him being in the bathtub, fully clothed. And I can't understand why he's like this."

"Let me see," said Devlin, moving forward, and kneeling down beside the bathtub. Like Grif, he passed his hand over Freddie's unconscious body. "I'm not sensing his emotions. Except for a very, very small amount, that is. It's like something's drained him of all feeling. I've never encountered anything like it before."

"Isn't that what _you_ do?" asked Sam.

"Not really. We absorb emotions that sentient beings radiate. We don't drain beings of their emotions any more than green plants drain the sun of its energy. Though we can provide an…outlet, I guess you'd call it, for built-up, pent-up, or repressed emotions." He looked up at her. "As you had occasion to find out, yourself." She looked away.

Grif thought. "Spencer, can you bring him to Carly's apartment? I don't think it's a good idea to just leave him here." Sam and Carly rejoined them. "Grif, we can't find any trace of Freddie's mom. All her stuff's here, but…"

"Okay. Spencer? You and Jillian get Freddie back to Carly's place. Now. Where does Gibby live?"

It rapidly became apparent that Gibby, too, was among the missing. And, as with the other missing people, there was no sign of any sort of voluntary departure.

Back at Carly's place: "Devlin, you spoke about this group from your dimension. Can you contact them?"

"I can try." He stood in the middle of the room, closing his eyes, an expression of concentration evident on his face. Finally, he said, "I….can sense an…afterimage, I suppose you'd call it, of three of them. More like a shadow than a presence. They were to investigate a Drs. Phillips and Weston, who themselves were investigating the eruption of Mt. Adams. Among other things." He looked pointedly at Grif. "It seems they were first attracted to the matter by a certain bomb that failed to explode."

Grif nodded. "Are they still there? Here, I mean?"

"No. Nor are the people they were interrogating, the Drs. Phillips and Weston. They, too, appear to be missing."

After a moment, Grif spoke up. "Alright. It appears we're the only ones here in the Darkness. I guess that's the good news.

"But that's also the bad news."

"But, but how can that be?" Jillian had put Freddie on the couch, and Sam was bending over him, clearly concerned. Devlin noticed and tried not to be jealous. This was just normal human behavior; it didn't have anything to do with his and Sam's relationship. Which, he admitted to himself, was probably over with anyway.

So much for style. He shrugged. It was a learning process, he supposed. And it wasn't like he didn't have time, time to learn and refine his techniques.

For him, and beings like him, what humans called "Forever" was just… an episode.

He had really wanted Sam to be his first. He was coming to realize just how much he'd been counting on that, and how unlikely that was looking as though it would be.

"I've a hunch: Seattle isn't really here. _We_ are here. My forays into the Darkness indicate that living beings that wind up being trapped there _imagine_ their surroundings, making them real, at least temporarily. It's like…there's no reality here, so we sort of bring our own. Like, well…like a space suit. It has a limited supply of air and water. So here we are, imagining Seattle as we remember it. Sort of. Why us, that I don't know. But one thing I do know: if we don't get out of here, and soon, we'll all cease to exist."

…

Seattle: The Earth realm: Jemiah had felt the earthquake-like force that had torn through the city, demolishing buildings, cutting off traffic, and producing severe power outages. A very bad combination. **{{Adriel!}}**

 **{{I hear, Exalted One.}}**

 **{{I think it common knowledge that that was no ordinary earthquake. I need you to personally look in on my nephew and his group. I cannot sense them.}}**

Moments later: **{{They are not to be found, Exalted One. I have checked the Shay's apartment, and, in fact, the entire building. Gryphon, Carly, her friend Sam, and her brother Spencer are among the missing.}}**

 **{{Did you think to check-*}}**

 **{{I also checked on the demoness, Jillian Adara. She, too, is missing, as is this "Devlin BenDarian" of whom you informed me.}}** Another moment. **{{But I can sense no other disappearances that might be linked to these.}}**

Jemiah closed his eyes in pain. It was happening all over again, just like last time…. **{{I need you to make a personal report to High Command. Tell them what has happened, and request reinforcements. I've a hunch we'll need them.**

 **{{Yes. I've a strong hunch we'll need them. Badly.}}**

Hell, in the innermost circle: the City of Dis: Darian BenDarian stood before the Black Throne, having just finished up his report on the recent event. **{{That is as much knowledge as we have at this time, Your Excellencies. Evidently, two of our demons in the Earth realm, those most closely associated with Gryphon Stryder, have vanished, presumably into the Darkness. And our agents tell us they are picking up indications of the Darkness's increasing strength.**

 **{{Just like last time.}}**

The Black Throne rumbled, the reverberations passing from one side of the room to the other. Darian BenDarian waited patiently.

He had learned patience long, long ago, even as demons measure time.

Finally, the "sound" came once again to his mind, **{{It is to be fervently hoped that what transpired the last time this happened will not happen now. But hope alone is insufficient to ward off disaster. We will issue the investigation team we assigned to Earth new orders. They will be to locate the nexus from which these incursions are coming. And…though it pains us immensely…we will also inform the angels of our actions. You will take a prominent role in this. You will contact this Jemiah St. Clair, and arrange for the coordination of our two teams**

 **{{For you may be sure they will send for their own team.**

 **{{Perhaps…just perhaps, by working together, we can prevent the end of this particular Earth, along with its associated dimension.**

{{ **This time.}}**

 _To be continued…._


	19. Chapter 19: The Questing Heart

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 19: The Questing Heart

…

 _I don't own iCarly._ _Would that I did._

…

Chapter 19: The Questing Heart

 _What has gone before:_

Seattle: The Earth realm: Jemiah had felt the earthquake-like force that had torn through the city, demolishing buildings, smashing traffic, and producing severe power outages. A very bad combination, and, he could tell, from no natural source. **{{Adriel!}}**

 **{{I hear, Exalted One.}}**

 **{{I think it common knowledge that that was no ordinary earthquake. I need you to personally look in on my nephew and his group. I cannot sense them.}}**

Moments later: **{{They are not to be found, Exalted One. I have checked the Shay's apartment, and, in fact, the entire building. Gryphon, Carly, her friend Sam, and her brother Spencer are among the missing.}}**

 **{{Did you think to check-*}}**

 **{{I also checked on the demoness, Jillian Adara. She, too, is missing, as is this "Devlin BenDarian" of whom you informed me.}}** Another moment. **{{But I can sense no other disappearances that might be linked to these.}}**

Jemiah closed his eyes in pain. It was happening all over again, just like last time…. **{{I need you to make a personal report to High Command. Tell them what has happened, and request reinforcements. I've a hunch we'll need them.**

 **{{Yes. I've a strong hunch we'll need them. Badly.}}**

Hell, in the innermost circle: the City of Dis: Darian BenDarian stood before the Black Throne, having just finished up his report on the recent event. **{{That is as much knowledge as we have at this time, Your Excellencies. Evidently, two of our demons in the Earth realm, those most closely associated with Gryphon Stryder, have vanished, presumably into the Darkness. And our agents tell us they are picking up indications of the Darkness's increasing strength.**

 **{{Just like last time.}}**

The Black Throne rumbled, the reverberations passing from one side of the room to the other. Darian BenDarian waited patiently.

He had learned patience long, long ago, even as demons measure time.

Finally, the "sound" came once again to his mind, **{{It is to be fervently hoped that what transpired the last time this happened will not happen now. But hope alone is insufficient to ward off disaster. We will issue the investigation team we assigned to Earth new orders. They will be to locate the nexus from which these incursions are coming. And…though it pains us immensely…we will also inform the angels of our actions. You will take a prominent role in this. You will contact this Jemiah St. Clair, and arrange for the coordination of our two teams**

 **{{For you may be sure they will send for their own team.**

 **{{Perhaps…just perhaps, by working together, we can prevent the end of this particular Earth, along with its associated dimension.**

{{ **This time.}}**

BenDarian bowed low. He hated having to communicate with Jemiah again, but orders were orders. And he couldn't deny that he saw the wisdom in the Black Throne's orders. **{{I hear and obey.}}**

…..

 _Now:_

In the Darkness: Freddie was still unconscious, lying on the couch in Carly's living room. Sam sat beside him, working a cold compress onto his head. He hadn't so much as twitched ever since they'd brought him here.

From the other side of the room, Devlin watched, troubled. Something was wrong…then he caught himself laughing inside. Of course something was wrong! They were _in the Darkness!_ That was about as "wrong" as you could possibly get.

He crossed over to that side of the room. "How's he doing?"

Sam glared up at him. "Why d' _you_ care?"

"Why shouldn't I? He means something to you, and you mean something—quite a lot, actually—to me. So, yes, I care."

She bent over Freddie again. "Not that it's any of your damned business, but he's doing….no better and no worse. I, I can't understand why he's still out."

Devlin sat down on the other end of the couch, planting his trident, hilt-first, on the floor beside him. "I'm afraid I've no knowledge to share about this. None of us have ever had any investigative forays into the Darkness."

She fiddled with the compress on Freddie's forehead. "I can't get over how you suckered me in. And for _years._ " He didn't say anything. What was there to say? "I'd say 'God damn you,' but that's redundant, isn't it?"

He sighed. "If you say so, Sam." He reached out over Freddie's form, trying to sense emotions from the still body in front of them.

She knocked his hand away. "Get away from him! And get away from me, too! I, I don't care if you _personally_ get us back from this place, I don't _ever_ wanna have anything more to do with you! You hear me?" She was shouting. The others looked up, their attention drawn by the noise.

Again he sighed. "Yes, Sam. I hear you." He got up and moved over towards the kitchenette.

Over by the picture window, Grif and the others were conferring. "Bottom line: none of us can communicate with outside, the Earth realm we just came from. I think it's safe to say Uncle Jemiah will have noticed this…this whatever-it-was, and will be taking steps to find us. If we're the only ones missing, that is."

Devlin joined them. "The Black Throne will also be sending out someone or someones to look into the matter. But I doubt they'll be able to find out much. A lot of it depends on what shape Seattle—the real one, I mean—is in. If it's a major disaster area, it could take days to sift through the wreckage. And, of course, my people would need a more compelling reason to do so than yours."

….

Sam was still seething when the group decided it was time to call it a night. Darkness or no, the humans needed their rest. Carly and Spencer retired to their respective rooms, while Sam slept on some blankets on the floor by the couch where Freddie was. Even though Carly had offered to share her room with her, as they had done in the past, Sam shook her head. "I wanna be here if he needs me."

Spencer and Carly exchanged knowing glances. Without realizing it, Sam had just revealed something of her true feelings for Freddie.

Grif noticed Jillian watching Spencer go to his room, a look of longing on her face. He was halfway tempted; what harm could it do? Then he caught himself: it could do a whole lot of harm. Human-demon sex had _never_ resulted in anything positive. (At least, that he knew of.) "Jillian? Remember your promise."

The demon girl looked down at the floor. "You don't have to remind me," she said, dejectedly. "It…It wouldn't be…a good idea….for either of us."

The three immortals took seats around the circular dining table, striving, each with his or her own senses, to determine the nature of this place, and how best to leave it. "I can't sense anything useful," Devlin said, after about two hours of concentrated effort. "I'm trying to find a, a weak spot, maybe a glitch in the Darkness where we came in. There should be something there…but there's not."

"Much as I hate to agree with him, he's right," said Jillian. "I can't find any sort of nexus point where all this started."

"Then," said Grif, determinately, "we may have to make our own."

Sam had got up in the middle of the night, feeling the call of nature, which, even here, had to be answered. At least everything still worked: electricity, plumbing, a/c. Freddie was still out, comatose. She checked his temperature, and readjusted the cold compress on his forehead. He was still out of commission, and nobody seemed to know why. She went on in to the restroom.

What if he died?

The thought hit Sam like a physical blow. Suppose Freddie died? Here….he'd cease to be. He wouldn't "pass on," or "pass away;" he'd be….nonexistent. Anywhere.

Tears started from her face. That wouldn't happen, she'd see to it, somehow. It was infinitely better to die in the "real" world, where at least you had a chance of an afterlife, but dying here meant….

She stood there in the bathroom, hands on the sink, head hung low. It just wouldn't do for them to see her like this; Samantha Puckett didn't cry. And she especially didn't want for that lying, two-faced _thing_ she'd actually come to trust, to see her like this.

She blew her nose noisily, dried her eyes, and repaired what little makeup she wore. Looking at herself in the mirror, she couldn't believe what she was seeing. She looked like someone on the verge of a breakdown.

Sam had always prided herself on being rock-solid, someone her friends could count on in time of need. She'd always felt like she had to be; her home life was chaos, her mother mostly absent. The only real family she felt like she could be close to calling her own was Carly Shay's. In a sense, they'd adopted each other, with Carly's family filling a void in her own life.

And Freddie….

"Sam?" She whirled around. Standing in the doorway was Freddie, looking very pale, rubbing his eyes as though he'd just come out of a deep sleep. "Sam? What's going on?"

Appearances be damned; she grabbed him in a bear hug. "Oh, Freddie! I was so afraid, afraid you, you were gonna…." She found herself having trouble formulating the words.

"Hey, hey, it's alright. Uh, at least I guess it is." He smoothed her hair down, putting his own arms around her. "Sh. It's alright, Sam. But…tell me…what's happened? Is it nighttime? It wasn't nighttime a second ago."

"No, no….it's more complicated than that." She very briefly gave him a description of the Darkness, and how they came to be in it. He led her back to the couch he'd been lying on. He put his hand on her arm, a steadying gesture. "And, and, we found you over in your apartment, we couldn't find any trace of your mother…."

"You couldn't find Mom? Sam, I have to go back there. If, if she's there, or might be there…if all this is true and I'm not just dreaming it….I have to go try to find her." He got up and headed for the door.

"Oh, no you don't! You just came out of a freakin' _coma_ , Fredward! No way I'm letting you go barreling around in _this_ nightmare!"

"Then come with me." He turned to her, his expression one of utmost intensity. "Sam, I _have_ to try to find her. You see that, don't you?" His eyes pleaded with her, and she felt something melt inside her.

The others were still in conference around the table, just around the corner from the couch Sam and Freddie were sitting on, deep in concentration, trying to contact their respective superiors. They didn't notice Freddie leading Sam out the door…but something tingled in the back of Devlin's mind, even as he focused on sending his thoughts into the aether. He very quietly got up from the table. Such was the concentration of the other two that they did not notice his departure.

Freddie's apartment: "There's got to be at least some sign of her. I mean, _I'm_ here; why wouldn't she be?"

"Freddie, it might be because she never actually met Grif or Jillian. Or, or that other guy," she finished, wincing as though she'd just tasted something spoiled.

"It could be. But I've got to look." He turned the apartment upside down. "A clue, something, anything…."

She helped him, pulling out drawers and dumping the contents on the floor. In the back of her mind, she wondered: was this a good way of finding someone? But Freddie seemed to think so, so it must be….

Anyway, it was what they did in all the cop shows. Even as she thought it, something about that didn't seem totally right, somehow, but right then she just wasn't in any mood to analyze any of it. Just _do_ something. It was like her feelings were building up inside, like muscles knotting into cramps, demanding that she do something, anything, even if it made no sense.

"Sounds like you've been under a lot of stress," he said, even as he emptied another dresser.

"Too right. And, and this guy I was starting to, like, actually _trust?_ Turns out _he's_ a demon! A real demon! I mean, I should'a known! Look at his business card! Just _look_!" She paused momentarily, producing and showing him the card Devlin had given her (and why was she still even carrying that?), and the email address: _benDarianDevlin._ And the domain name that followed it: _WorldCorp_. _hel._ "He's even got an email address that literally goes _straight to hell!_ I mean, _what_ could I have been _thinking?_ "

Freddie took the proffered card, examining it. "Huh. He could'a at least used a proxy server."

"So yeah, it's been crazy. _I've_ been crazy. Everything's been crazy."

He pulled up on the mattress in the bedroom, but rather than look under it, he looked at her. "You feel betrayed. By him."

"Well, _yeah._ "

He straightened up, turning to face her. "And angry."

"Yeah…" she was still looking for some place they hadn't trashed yet, although she wasn't exactly sure what it was she was looking for. Did Freddie think his mom might be hiding underneath a sofa cushion?

"And afraid."

"I'd be stupid _not_ to be! For that matter, what are we actually looking for, over he-*"

"You know, Sam…." He began, turning from the search, "There's something I never told you. But I think it's important to say, especially now."

"Huh? What's that?" She pulled out another drawer…

He came up to her, turned her to face him. "That time we kissed…that was one of the happiest moments of my life."

"Kissed?" She colored, not really wanting to think about it, for some reason.

"You remember. It was a first kiss for us both. I just wanted you to know how much it meant to me."

"Freddie…this isn't helping. I mean, yeah, I get that, that, whatever, but we're trying to find your mother, an' we won't be doing that standing here talking about, about, you know."

"I know, Sam." His expression was gentle. He took her hands in his, brought them up to his lips, and gently kissed the back of each one. "But from what you're telling me, we could easily die here. And, and die, like permanently, right? No Heaven _or_ Hell here. No Ouija board messages from the dearly departed. So I wanted you to know…how much you mean to me." She stood, mesmerized at his words. Totally unexpected….but so totally longed-for. "I…I guess I've always felt this way, from the first time I saw you. You put on a tough show, yeah, but…I could see past that. I could see the hurting person inside." His eyes bored into hers, his head drawing closer. "So I just wanted you to know…you mean the world to me…" His head inclined towards hers, and she found herself turning her head up, to meet his lips…

…..and three prongs of a trident erupted from Freddie's chest. He gasped and staggered back, pulled back by Devlin.

There was no blood. The tines of the trident simply pierced him through from the back, their barbs catching him like fish hooks, as Devlin lifted him completely off the ground. Freddie gasped again, and thrashed, trying to free himself, but to no avail. Devlin threw him across the room, yanking the barbs of the trident out, ripping tendons along with them, and then used it to pin him to the wall.

" _What are you doing?"_ screamed Sam. " _Let him alone! What-*"_

Devlin spoke. "Sam. That's not Freddie."

" _Of course it is! You monster! You-*"_ She looked around for a weapon.

"Sam. Look. _Look!_ " He commanded, drawing her attention to the figure impaled on the wall, like a butterfly on a pin. "Where's the blood?"

Sam was ready to tear off a table leg for a bludgeon, when her attention was drawn, quite against her will, to the figure on the wall. Devlin was right; there was no blood. Not a drop. Nor did the being seem all that inconvenienced by the fact that it had a piece of metal stuck all the way through it.

Devlin kept hold of his end. The creature pinned on the wall looked up, and Sam noticed something that chilled her to the bone.

Little changes had come over the face. Nothing major, nothing she could put her finger on, but a subtle shift in the contours of the face and body, adding up to something monstrous, something that shouldn't be, something that didn't belong in any sane universe. While she was still taking all this in, the thing raised its head and spoke through grinning lips. She noticed that the incisors were longer than normal…and looked to be far sharper than any teeth really had any right to be. "So. Demon. What gave me away? I thought my disguise was perfect."

"You recovered far too quickly from the state we found you in, and you were a little too eager to leave the relative safety of Carly's group. And you instantly zeroed in on the most emotionally vulnerable member of the group, isolating her from the rest, preparing her for the slaughter. Typical predator behavior," he finished solemnly, still holding the thing speared against the wall. "I know a thing or two about predators."

"Oh, well," said the thing pinned against the wall, "live and lear-*"

A blast of Hellfire channeled through the trident reduced the thing on the other end to powdered ash. "You won't be doing either one," Devlin announced.

Sam just stood there. Somehow, what had happened didn't see real. It was like something one sees on television, in between mouthfuls of popcorn. She was….here? Where was…here? What was she doing here?

What just happened, anyway?

What was she feeling, anyway? Rage? Hate? Anger? Fear? _Desire_? Anguish? Anxiety? Some of all combined, as well as others she couldn't formulate?

She felt like a tuning fork, vibrating in place from the forces within her. Those forces continued to build up, until she wanted to scream, but she couldn't. It was like she was paralyzed.

Her last memory, there in Freddie's apartment, was blackness covering her eyes, even as Devlin shouted her name.

….

She came to, thought and memory gradually reasserting themselves. She could hear, but she didn't open her eyes. She'd…gone somewhere? With Freddie? No, not Freddie; something else. Something that had looked like Freddie. Something horrible.

And another figure, carrying a golden pitchfork, tearing it away from her, and burning it beyond even ashes. There was nothing left.

She felt horror, fear, rage, lust, disgust, and a host of other emotions she didn't know how to deal with…but she also felt them somehow funneling away from her, as though they were water gurgling into a culvert, going down a drain pipe. It was by no means an unpleasant sensation; somehow neither wrong nor right but oh it felt so good. Like talking to an old friend, only so much more so. She could feel all these pent-up emotions, emotions that were exploding inside her, draining away, harmlessly. Someone was holding her hand. "She's coming around," said a voice.

She opened her eyes, just in time to see Devlin let go of her hand.

Carly was bending over her. "Sam. You gave us a nasty turn, there. We thought we'd lost you," she said as she hugged her best friend.

"Y-yeah. I….I don't know what happened. Freddie…" She felt tears coming, but blinked them back. It didn't seem to be as hard as she remembered it being. "Freddie wasn't Freddie." She put a hand to her head, as the others, Grif, Jillian, and Spencer watched from the side. "Why do I feel so…funny?" She felt a little light-headed.

Grif spoke up. "You were going critical, emotionally and physically, and it was having a direct impact on your physical health. Pulse, heartbeat, respiration, blood pressure…all were spiking out of your body's control. That thing had amplified your feelings of anger, fear, frustration, and many others all the better to feed off you. You would have been a huge banquet for it."

"I told you," said Devlin, over by the picture window, one foot propped up on a low stool, looking out over the dark city, "we don't drain you of your emotions. But there are beings that do."

She looked over at him. Some part of her was still angry, and wanted to lash out….but it seemed distant, somehow, like a wave that had passed. "What'd you do to me?"

"I siphoned off your excess emotions and feelings, drew them into me. That was all."

"' _All'?_ You, you…-*"

"Sam, we almost lost you." Carly's voice was filled with unshed tears. "If Devlin _hadn't_ done what he did, you'd 'a stroked out, or, or had a heart attack or something. And here, in this awful place…."

Sam looked over at Devlin, who hadn't moved from the picture window. "So. You waitin' for me to say 'thanks,' or somethin'?"

"No." There was a note in his voice she'd never heard before. "In fact, I'm not waiting for you at all, anymore." He gestured; his trident, leaning against the far wall, flew across the room, snapping into his hand. "I'm going for a walk." And with that, his shadowcloak flipped up and over him, and he was gone.

….

The streets of shadow-Seattle: once outside, he found he could better see the slight differences that made this place _not_ Seattle. The walls of the buildings were paper-thin, in some places, with curious curves, and convex bulges in others. No, from out here, it was obvious this wasn't Seattle at all.

Such a fool he'd been. Uncle Darian would be laughing about this for at least an aeon. And maybe when he got over his own embarrassment—which he may as well start doing, right now—he'd laugh right along with him.

If you can't laugh at yourself, there is something seriously wrong with you.

Whatever had he ever seen in the Earth girl to begin with? A fiery temper? She certainly had that, he had to admit as much. Her physical appearance? Hardly. Demons and angels alike were well aware that physical appearance—whether "good," "bad" (such human terms! How odd they must think!) or any stage in between—was such a variable thing, changing from one aspect into another, and yet another, as the years in a human's lifetime cycled past. To beings like them, the entirety of a human's life was no longer than the cell division of an amoeba.

When he looked at Sam, he saw her from the moment of birth—no, make that the moment of _conception_ —to the years throughout her life, her soul clothed in malleable, ephemeral flesh, to the moment of that soul's release. It was a completely different standard of "beauty" than the one humans normally employed.

Well, it didn't matter, ultimately. Perhaps he'd been a fool (Make that _certainly,_ he counseled himself sternly), but that was in the past. Instead of dwelling on it, he'd simply move on, into the future. Though it did give him a nasty shock when he remembered that little minx Jillian, and how she'd laugh. Well, let her. He guessed he deserved it, in a way. He couldn't consult his future selves at all, else he would have been able to "remember" how they'd gotten out of this predicament "this" time.

Though it was encouraging to remember that he _did_ have some, back when he was in the Earth dimension. That, in itself, was a source of comfort to him; more than one timeline indicated he would actually survive to _have_ a future self.

But with a bit of a start, he realized that he could not think of any of those future selves that included any memory of Sam. Odd. Well, there were lots of explanations for that.

Most of them troubled him more than he'd ever admit.

 _To be continued…_


	20. Chapter 20: Precautions

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 20: Precautions

….

 _I don't own iCarly._

… _._

Chapter 20: Precautions

Seattle: Jemiah had just conferred with a most unsettling communication from High Command when he received the telepathic equivalent of a phone call from a most unwelcome personage. **{{Jemiah St. Clair. I've received orders from my superiors. We are to work together with you to solve this crisis.}}**

 **{{Indeed. I, too, received similar orders from my superiors as well. Have you anything to report?}}**

 **{{Nothing save that our own investigative team has pinpointed the location of the initial incursion. It lies several miles below Mt. Adams. Far below the area your hot-blooded nephew expressed his irritation upon.}}**

 **{{What's down there?}}**

 **{{Miles upon countless miles of previously unsuspected caverns. Many of them so deep they nearly approach the Earth's mantle. We have uncovered an anomaly.}}**

Jemiah raised an eyebrow. He had to admit, the demons knew how to work. That they'd uncovered anything was, in itself, remarkable, considering that his own investigations had not. **{{And?}}**

 **{{I am sending you all the information we have. Our team has uncovered an… artifact that we cannot identify. It may have no bearing on our current common problem….or it may.}}**

 **{{What does it appear to be?}}**

 **{{It appears to be a hole. A hole in space.}}**

….

In the Darkness: Devlin walked, still marveling at his surroundings. _I may as well get in a little sight-seeing._ Of course, demons never came here, not voluntarily, at least, and those who apparently did were never heard from again. But he couldn't shake the _strangeness_ of it all.

Only about half of the city's lights were still functional. Even as he watched, two more fizzled out. Soon there would be no lights, no light, at all. There was no sun, no moon, and no stars. That would make things hard, for the humans here, especially: no electricity for their various implements and devices. No air conditioning. Probably no plumbing.

If they were going to do anything, they'd best do it quick. The Immortals wouldn't be inconvenienced by the loss of the power grid, but the humans would be very inconvenienced indeed.

And just exactly what had happened to him, anyway? He could remember his burning desire to acquire Sam's soul, how he'd promised himself he'd have her. For human years, that will had been unshakeable, one thing he'd determined he'd do. And even among his own kind, Devlin had a strong will.

Yet, something….something was…not right. With demons, their core emotions included an incredible (by human standards) will to acquire, to possess, to _own_. Yet…somehow that didn't seem as important to him right now.

Could it be this place? Could it be siphoning off his own rock-solid will? To a demon, there was nothing to be feared more.

Or could it be something else?

What he'd heard of the Darkness was, that whatever burned brightest within you, whatever spark of soul or spirit or whatever you had in you, was drained away until there was simply nothing left.

" _H-help!"_ The cry was barely discernable, but his inhumanly sharp ears picked it up. Instantly he was at the ready, trident poised, looking around for the source of the voice.

" _Help me! Somebody!"_ It sounded like a human female's voice. His attention was drawn to a five-story illusion of a residential apartment complex. There: second floor, third one down, one of the few rooms still lit. It was coming from up there.

 _Well,_ he thought, _why not._ He made his way across the darkened street, and mounted the stairs, taking them two at a time. No doubt this was some other monster trapped in the Darkness, sensing a source of nourishment in him. It would be fun to burn something else into ashes. He could pretend it was Sam.

That anticipatory thought gave him no joy, however. Strange.

He came to a door marked "2113." Without waiting or otherwise announcing his presence, he simply smashed the door open and rushed in. Okay; now where _was_ the thing?

He sensed strong emotions coming from the bathroom. Bursting into the room, he looked around.

In the bathtub was a girl, blond, apparently human, naked and shivering, half-sitting on the floor of the tub. She looked to be maybe twenty, and was clutching her right leg, crying in pain. "I, I fell. I think I broke something." An expression of intense agony came over her face. Such was her apparent distress that she didn't even seem to realize that she was naked.

He looked at her cautiously. Surely, this was some other monster in human guise, pretending to be the "damsel in distress" that humans were so fond of rescuing all the time. "Who are you?"

She gasped, drawing in a deep sucking breath, still holding her leg. "I, I'm Brittney. Who…who are you?" She looked up, wide eyed, at the strange man in crimson and black who'd burst into her bathroom, it just then registering with her. Or seeming to.

Well, okay. He could play this game, he guessed. It would be all the better for when he finally blasted the thing into oblivion. "I'm called Devlin." He retracted his trident and slid it into the holder on his belt.

He pulled a towel off the rack and handed it to her, while he knelt down beside the tub. The emotions he was sensing seemed to be genuine; the other creature, the false Freddie, had hardly had any of its own, due to its vampiric nature. She covered herself as best she could. "Let me see."

Close inspection, during which he noticed tears of pain running down her face, indicated that, yes, indeed, the leg appeared to be broken. "Yes, it's broken. I can't tell how badly. You say you fell?" It was a decent cover story, he thought: humans fell in bathtubs all the time, often breaking bones. And the Freddie-thing had also been found in a bathtub.

"Y-yes. Can—can you help me?"

Cautiously, very cautiously, he extended his senses into her. If this was a disguise, it was a good one. He didn't have any sort of healing power, but…there was one thing he could do, that he might as well do. "Hold on." He placed his hand on her bare shoulder, and let her feelings of fear and pain course into him. Her eyes widened again as she felt her terror and agony diminish. They didn't go away, but all of a sudden, it seemed like they _shrank,_ somehow, becoming more manageable. "Wha-what are you-*"

"Come. I will take you to another place. Close your eyes for a moment." Still cringing at the memory of the pain, she gasped again, and obediently closed her eyes, as he picked her up, and flipped his shadowcloak over them both…

"Who's this?" Spencer asked, ransacking the fridge. He was up for a late night snack. He was the only one in evidence as the ninth circle demon emerged from his shadowcloak, carrying Brittney in his arms.

"Someone who needs a splint. What do you have in the way of first aid supplies?"

Before long, the entire group, minus Sam, was gathered around the couch, giving Brittney their undivided attention. Carly had given her some clothes, as they were about the same size. "I, I don't know what happened," the girl said, "All I know was, I was taking a shower, when it felt like an earthquake hit. I fell down, and, and, felt something break in my leg…." Again, she gasped, holding her leg. They'd managed a crude splint. While they were setting it, and tying it on, Devlin again drew off her pain. _Might as well go along with the gag._ He kept his trident in its holster, ready to deploy at a moment's notice. He didn't need it to channel Hellfire, but it served to help focus the effect.

But she seemed to be truly in pain. Could it be, he wondered, that she was what she appeared to be?

But no. This was the Darkness. _Nothing_ was what it appeared to be.

She looked at him, eyes wide, as he once again siphoned off the pain. "How…how are you _doing_ that?"

He let out a very small sigh. The others looked on. This was his call. "It's probably too soon to tell you this, but I'm a demon. So is she," he gestured towards Jillian. "And he's an angel." Pointing at Grif. She looked at Carly and Spencer. "They're mortals."

She groaned again, but not from pain. She held her face in her hands. "I'm dreaming. No, I hurt too much. I've gone crazy, that's what it is. I fell down, hit my head, and this is some horrible nightmare…."

"It's a horrible nightmare, alright, but, very unfortunately, you aren't dreaming. But that's how I drew off your pain. That's what we demons do: absorb the feelings of others." He sat next to her on the couch, still alert for the first sign or indication that she wasn't human.

But he wasn't sensing any. If this…creature…was play-acting, it was doing a superlative job. An old quote came to him: _A difference that makes no difference_ _is_ _no difference._

"Who's she?" Sam was just coming into the room. The others looked up at her. "Who's this?"

 _None of your business,_ thought Devlin. Then he cursed himself for almost letting his emotions show. So what if Sam had rejected him? It didn't matter. There'd be others. The important thing was to maintain his composure.

Not let her see how much she'd hurt him.

"Her name's Brittney. I found her in a bathtub. She seems to've fallen and broken a leg." There. She could get the rest of the story from someone else.

Sam approached the girl on the couch warily. It hadn't been lost on her that this creature, too, had been found in a bathtub. Just like the false Freddie. Coincidence? Was this another monster?

Why did she care if it was? Devlin seemed to be in charge of this particular operation; let _him_ get wasted. That might actually be fun to watch.

So what was this peculiar feeling in the middle of her stomach?

"Brittney," Carly asked, "What can you tell us about what happened to you?"

"I, I was taking a shower. Then, it was, it was like the building dropped down or something, and I, I slipped." She sniffled, blowing her nose on a Kleenex Grif had given her. "What…what _happened?_ It's nighttime; did I pass out or something? Was it an earthquake?"

"No." Grif moved in closer. She shrank back, unsure as to what to expect. "Full details will have to wait. But for right now, you need to sleep." And he touched her forehead, and she instantly fell back into Devlin's lap, fast asleep. "Let her sleep. When she wakes up…" He got up and sighed. "Well, let's just say she'll have a lot to process."

"So she's human?" Jillian stood by Grif, eyeing the blond haired girl on the couch. Devlin very carefully got up, laying her head back down on a sofa cushion.

"As near as I can tell. Nothing's certain here, you understand, but I'm not picking up any indication that she's other than what she appears to be. Now, how she came to be here, that I haven't a clue about." He turned his attention to Devlin. "You didn't sense anyone else, in the place you found her?"

"No one. But I might not have sensed her, if she hadn't been injured. But, no, I couldn't sense anyone else."

"Well, we'll have to take precautions, just in case. Carly, you and Spencer—and Sam—keep your distance from her until we know more. Don't be alone with her for any reason, I don't care what. Not even for a second." He muttered to himself. "I need to know why—if she _is_ human—why she's _here._ "

…

 **{{A hole? A hole in space?}}**

 **{{So it appears. Our team experimented a bit with it, and found out that an object held up to it could be sheared in two by striking it on its "edge," so to speak. And objects tossed into it simply disappeared.}}**

 **{{How far down is this anomaly?}}**

 **{{Nearly twenty kilometers. There is no indication as to any sort of generation mechanism. It just is.}}**

Jemiah nodded. His own team had gone over the world from the air, and found nothing of note. He was more impressed than he cared to admit that his opposite number had come into possession of more information than he did. **{{I am sending a contingent down to see if the anomaly can be moved, in some way. As it is, from what you say, it is difficult to work with.}}**

 **{{Agreed. I shall issue suitable orders to our group. Have you any more luck with contacting our missing members?}}**

 **{{No. But there is something else we can try….}}**

 **{{St. Clair.}}**

 **{{Eh?}}**

 **{{You would know this better than I. Is there any indication of…the Destroyer in this general vicinity?}}**

Jemiah frowned. He'd just finished wondering that, himself. **{{None that I have been made aware of. But suitable precautions never hurt.}}**

 _To be continued…._


	21. Chapter 21: Return

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 21: Return

…

 _Standard disclaimer: don't own, you know._

… _._

Chapter 21: Return

In the Darkness: Brittney slept on, in spite of her pain. Every so often, Devlin would go over to her and draw off a bit of it, to keep her from waking prematurely. Much as he hated to agree with the angel, Gryphon, he was right. When she woke up, she'd wake up to a very different world than any she'd ever expected.

Maybe it would be kinder not to explain it to her, just let her drift off into nothingness.

"Getting a midnight snack?" Sam's voice carried over from the kitchenette, venom dripping from each word. He didn't respond. She meant nothing to him. Not anymore.

She moved over towards them. Good manners required that he permit that, though he had to restrain himself from lashing out at her with what could easily escalate to lethal force. Humans. So self-righteous.

In his home dimension, proper social protocol would have required her to have his permission before approaching him so closely, and in such a familiar manner, unless she belonged to him. But this was not his home dimension. He had to accept that. For now.

There was no one else there, the humans having retired to their rooms to sleep, and Gryphon and Jillian out on a quest to see if they couldn't find a weak spot in the trap they were in. Something, anything, they could exploit. In spite of their natural antipathy, those two seemed to work well together. Surprisingly so, considering.

Devlin sat on the couch, cradling Brittney's head on a pillow in his lap. Every so often, he'd run his fingers lightly across her forehead, drawing off the pain—and the nightmares. Those, and the feelings they produced, were sustenance for him, too. She would be living in a nightmare when she woke up; there was no need for her to be dreaming of one already. Of course, that was the only reason he was doing this. As Sam said, just getting a snack. _Waste not…_ "When she wakes up, I guess I'll have to convince her that she's not delusional, that all this is, in fact, real. That's going to be a hard concept for her to swallow."

"So why should you care? You don't care what people feel, or do. You just feed on their pain."

 _Excuse me, but did I give you permission to speak to me like that, human?_ "If it makes you happy to believe that, go right ahead. I feed on emotions and sensations, yes. Both positive and negative. You've seen that, in your own life." _Now go away and leave me alone, fleshbag._

"Yeah." She sat on a high bar stool. "You basically vampirized my mind. I'm lucky I can still tie my shoes."

He looked up at her, keeping his face carefully neutral. " _Can_ you still tie your shoes?" The look of uncertainty mixed with fear that crossed her face was completely worth it. He laughed silently as she left the room, trying to seem casual, and ran to her room to see if she could still tie her shoes.

He could still find something to laugh about. Good.

"Devlin?" Carly came into the room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Have you heard anything from Grif and Jillian?" She came and sat down on the far end of the couch.

"No. But that means nothing. When I last heard from them, they were exploring the convention center—well, the illusion of it—where Gryphon originally began to actively take a hand in matters."

"What about Mt. Adams? He really went postal there, I heard. Maybe there's a, a weak spot or, or something there…."

"Because," he answered calmly, "in this particular region of nonspace, there _is_ no Mt. Adams. The limits of this place don't extend that far. Think of it like the virtual reality of a video game: beyond a certain point, although you can see something out there, you can't actually get to it."

Carly gestured towards the sleeping Brittney. "How's she doing?"

"Better. Physically, I mean. What your angel boyfriend did probably accelerated her healing, but it'll still take some time. Time we don't have."

She cocked her head at him, a slight smile on her lips. "You know, Devlin, for a demon straight from Hell, you aren't such a bad guy."

"That just proves you don't know me very well." _You don't know me well at all, mortal._

"I know you well enough."

He scowled, not really wanting to get caught up in this discussion. "Well, anyway, I have to figure out what to tell her when she wakes up. Neither Gryphon nor I can sense anything beyond the ordinary in her; she seems to be completely human.

"Which only means that she, like you, will be the first to dissolve in this place, if we don't find a way out."

The Convention Center, or, rather, the illusion of it: the central pylons leaned at crazy angles, and the floor had noticeable bulges and dips in it. Gif and Jillian explored it cautiously, checking for anything out of the ordinary….

Except it was _all_ out of the ordinary. Little things, here and there. Just like the predator-Freddie, no one thing all that different, but all adding up to a completely different place than the Seattle they'd both come to know. The silence of the place covered everything like a shroud. _Appropriate,_ thought Grif. _If we don't find a way out of here, funeral shrouds will be in order._

"So, this is where you stopped that bomb, huh?" Jillian carried her trident at the ready, her eyes constantly scanning for shadows that were more than shadows.

"Yes." He gestured over towards a corner. "Over there."

"Did'ja ever think that maybe that brought all this about?"

"Actually, no, I didn't. It was a maneuver of no consequence to our current predicament. More likely, if it was anything I did, it was the detonation of Mt. Adams."

Jillian shook her head. "And they call _me_ hot-headed. _You_ blew up an entire mountain."

He ran his hands over a crooked central pillar. It felt like concrete, but no concrete could have held up a roof leaning at an angle like that. "That thing had hurt my aunt Maggie, Jillian. Tell me you would have responded differently."

"Yeah, well, that's true. I….guess I can understand about…wanting to keep people you care about…safe." She was thinking of Roger Talltree.

And a certain tall, lanky mortal she'd recently come to know. One who knew how to bowl.

She activated her trident, held it up in front of her. The red glow shone throughout the darkened Center, and she waved it back and forth. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Looking. For things that don't fit. For _things._ " Like Grif's, her vision far exceeded anything humans had ever dreamed of, but the supernatural light of the trident's Hellfire could ferret out any hint of abnormality, even here. "But I'm not seeing anything."

"Neither am I…..wait. Jillian, look! Do you see that?"

A golden tendril had dropped down from the blacker-than-black sky, like a rope from a blackened ceiling. "Jillian! That's it! My people have finally found a way to reach us! Quick, go get the others!"

Jillian didn't have to be told twice. She shadowcloaked her way back to the apartment. "Everybody! Come on! Gryphon's people have found us a way out!"

They lined up, even as Devlin gently picked up a still-sleeping Brittney, who frowned and whimpered in her sleep. Carly, Sam, and Spencer were teleported back to the Convention Center, where Grif still waited, the golden tendril hanging in front of him. He kept his hand on it, as though he were afraid it would disappear. There was something oddly familiar about it….

Devlin appeared, carrying Brittney. Grif looked at him, a worried expression on his face. "Devlin, we'll have to climb up this connection, each of us. Can…can you do that holding her?"

"I'm not leaving her, angel," he said. "We still don't know why she was down in the Darkness in the first place. I think that warrants further investigation."

Sam, meanwhile, was making a careful point not to look at him.

"I wasn't suggesting leaving her. But maybe we could devise some sort of sling between the two of us…"

"I think I can manage. You five go on. We'll follow."

Up the tendril they went, Gryphon first, followed by Carly, Sam, and Spencer. Jillian came next, and, without a backward glance at her ninth circle nemesis, grabbed onto the tendril and hauled herself up.

Devlin approached the tendril. How _was_ he going to do this? He settled Brittney against his left shoulder, wrapped his shadowcloak around her, and, grasping the golden tendril, began to shimmy up the line of potential, always careful to maintain his grip on the human girl. His superhuman strength aided him in the climb, but he was careful not to allow too much pressure to be accidently exerted on her. If he wasn't careful, he could cause her almost as much damage as the Darkness could. She began to come to, sensing all the motion, and, seeing the shifting strangeness all about her, gasped and clung to him. Now he had to be careful she didn't dislodge herself. "Wh-what's going on? Where are we?" All she could see was a shifting kaleidoscope of indescribable colors as Devlin climbed up the "rope"—and back to reality.

"It's alright, Brittney. We're going home. Just hang on, okay?"

Gryphon was the first to find himself back in his apartment, the glow from the transportation process still blinding. One by one he helped the mortals out, then turned to see who'd saved them.

As expected, Uncle Jemiah was there, in full Seraphim regalia, his usual grim expression on his face. But totally unexpected…..

"Gryphon!" Aunt Maggie rushed over to him, and caught him in a tight squeeze.

"Aunt Maggie? Is it really you? You're….you're alright?" Carly, Sam, and Spencer gathered around.

"Yes, yes, the renewal process went splendidly. Although I'm told a certain nephew of mine blew up an entire mountain during my absence…." She couldn't keep from laughing. "Really, Grif! A _whole mountain_?"

He hugged her back. "It was just _one_ mountain. I just didn't see any point in halfway measures, Aunt Maggie. But everything went well? How are you feeling?" Aside from Jemiah, they were the only two angels present, even though he could sense Adriel and Samael patrolling outside. Now it all made sense: it had been _Maggie's_ connection to him, her line of potential, that had reached down into the Darkness to them. Of course, she zeroed in on the illusory Convention Center. That was the last place in real Seattle she'd known them to be all together simultaneously.

Jillian was next to climb out of the transport field, and Aunt Maggie let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a squeal when she saw her. Grif was about to explain about how he'd come into the acquaintance of the demons, but before he could even begin, Maggie rushed over and threw her arms around an extremely surprised demon girl. " _Jillian!_ It's so good to see you! After all these years…and look at you! You're…you're all grown up now! And so beautiful…." Then her expression clouded over, as Jillian stared blankly at her, too surprised to even bring her trident into play. "Wait. I," And Grif could sense Maggie restructuring her mind, her mental processes.

Contrary to popular conception, angels can lie. But in order to do so, they have to restructure their own thoughts so as to make the statement true, or nearly so, in their own minds. "I don't have any library books overdue" becomes "I don't have any library books overdue _once I've returned these_." A slight alteration, and difficult to explain, but it enables the angel to tell an untruth without the accompanying pain that an outright lie normally produces.

"Do—do I know you, angel?"

Aunt Maggie stepped back, casting a glance at Grif. "Uhm, no. No, I, I was, I was mistaken. I'm sorry." She once again approached the now-wary demon girl, holding out her hand. "I…it's just, you seemed like someone I once knew. I'm Margaret Stryder, Gryphon's aunt." Unsmiling, she gravely shook hands with demoness, who was careful to keep her trident at port arms, between herself and this obviously crazy angel.

Devlin was the last to emerge, still carrying a now fully conscious Brittney, who'd closed her eyes and was pressing her face against the shoulder of her rescuer. A frown of puzzlement crossed Jemiah's face. "So. BenDarian. It seems you've found a plaything."

"Everybody needs a hobby." He paused, adjusting his grip, even as Brittney looked up and blinked at the unfamiliar surroundings, then continued. "She was in the Darkness, for unknown reasons. It might be a good idea to find out why."

"Indeed. I sense nothing in her that would lead her to such a fate."

Maggie approached, cautiously, and Devlin let her examine the girl, who was looking at the assembled angels, demons, and mortals, trying to take it all in, still in a state of partial shock from all the recent events. "Poor thing, what's happened to her leg? Well, bring her on in here; I've just the thing for it." She led the way into the master bedroom.

Grif looked at the others, and got several blank looks in return. Jillian's eyes had followed Maggie out of the room. "Your aunt have a history of mental disorder, angel?"

"No."

"It hurt her," began Carly, "to say she didn't know Jillian. Did you notice that, Grif?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did."

…..

"…it's some sort of angel balm, or something," Carly was explaining to Brittney. Maggie had treated Brittney's broken leg with the ointment, and an amazed Brittney found she could already put some weight on the limb. "Trust me: don't try to figure it out, it'll just make your head hurt." She thought for a moment. "Of course, there's nothing that says the balm isn't good for _that_ , too." They were in Grif's bedroom, along with Sam, Maggie having stepped out. Jillian was leaning against the wall by the door, on orders from Grif. The angel still didn't totally trust that Brittney was human. And demons seldom trust anything.

"Angels." Carly could see Brittney trying to work her mind around the concept, finally giving up and accepting it at face value. Angels. Angels? Real angels? Where were the wings and the halos? And no-horn demons? Well, okay. She guessed it really didn't matter. "But anyway, now that we're back, we'll see about getting you home," Carly said. Brittney had been pulled, literally naked, out of the Darkness, wearing only some clothes Carly had given her. She had no ID, no cash, no credit cards, nothing on her, as her accident had taken place in her shower, and Devlin had brought her straight to Carly's apartment, not taking the time to get her any clothes or any other personal belongings. All that had been considered of little to no consequence to them at the time, in their haste to get out of the Darkness before it consumed them all.

"That'll be great," Brittney remarked. "You guys have been more than super, but I'm really ready to go home!"

"Don't blame you. Well, as soon as we can-*"

Grif and Devlin entered the room, and Carly could already tell there was something wrong. She felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. "There's…a problem."

Carly groaned, putting her head in her hands. "So soon? I was sorta hoping for a bit of a break."

Grif and Devlin exchanged glances. "Evidently, things have transpired since our…abrupt departure, Or maybe it started at the same time." Devlin fished out a small crystal from a pouch on his belt. Carly glanced at Brittney, who was looking up at the ninth-circle demon with undisguised hero-worship…and maybe something more. Carly smiled; she guessed she could understand Brittney's reaction. "This is a replay of a scene caught by the mortals' satellite surveillance system." He activated the ruby-red crystal, and a three-dimensional image projected up into the air over his palm.

It showed the planet Earth, as seen from orbit. The day side glowed green and blue, with fluffy white clouds in streaks over the western part of the North American continent. He did something, and the picture zoomed in on the Great Lakes area. And Carly and Sam both gasped in shock.

Because in the middle of the blue of Lake Superior was a smallish spot of absolute blackness. It might have been their imagination, but it seemed as though that, as they watched, it appeared to grow, ever so slightly.

Devlin's voice was grim. "This isn't over."

 _To be continued…_


	22. Chapter 22: Confusion

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 22: Confusion

….

 _I don't own iCarly. The show, I mean, not the girl. Uhm, I don't own the girl either…oh, you know what I mean._

… _.._

Chapter 22: Confusion

Grif's dining room table had become an impromptu war room. Jemiah had told them they'd need to come to his headquarters for a full report, but for now, they were gathering together what information they could here in Grif's apartment.

Both of them were bent over the three-dimensional image of the planet Earth, that showed that suspicious spot of blackness. They'd already ruled out any normal event, such as a shadow of space debris, or some environmental factor. The only thing left….

"And, I understand, the water level in Lake Superior has dropped by an infinitesimal amount. And weather patterns are changing, ever so slightly. That's in keeping with….what we fear. The Darkness would basically 'unravel' any matter that it came into contact with, whether water or air, creating a kind of vacuum effect." Gryphon shook his head. "That 'hole in space' your people discovered must have something to do with it, but what?"

"It's a long way from Lake Superior. It may have nothing to do with the Darkness. But I agree, the timing is suspicious. Is there any information on how it might have been….what, generated? Holes in space don't just _appear._ "

"We can't seem to find one. It was … just there." Their attention was drawn by Carly, Sam, Jillian, and Brittney

"Devlin?" Brittney approached him, shyly. "The others…they're taking me home. I, I just wanted to, to…see you before I left."

"Oh. Well, it isn't goodbye, you know. We still need to know how you ended up in the Darkness. But yes, I can understand your desire to go home. We'll be in touch." He offered his hand.

She moved closer, eyes watering slightly. "Look. I-I know this is cliché to the max, but if I don't do this, I'm positively gonna explode." And with that, she threw her arms around his neck and drew the surprised demon into a scorching kiss.

And something _amazing_ happened.

Normally, when demons absorb emotions from humans, the process all goes one way, for the most part. Devlin had always heard that it was dangerous for humans to experience demons' emotions directly, unfiltered by the demons' own self-control, as they were so much more powerful than human ones. So extreme care had to be exercised so as not to "burn" the human on the other end.

But when Brittney kissed him, he felt an _exchange_ of emotions, her emotions, a complex mix of gratitude, a huge crush, and quite a bit of physical lust, flowing into him, and his….flowing into her. But far from "burning" her, he could tell she was…

 _Pleasured_ by it. There was no other word for it. Even as he was.

She broke away, looking up at him bashfully. "I hope I didn't offend you. I'd…like to see you again. Call me?"

"Uhm…" He actually found himself fumbling for words. That had never happened before. What had happened to his normal demonic composure? What was going on here? "Er, of course. As I said, we…we have to find out why you were in the Darkness. I, I will call you. About that, I mean." What _was_ that _peculiar_ look Sam was giving him? Well, it didn't matter. She was old news.

"Okay. See ya?" She turned to go.

"Certainly." The group left. Grif had told Jillian to accompany them…just in case. The demon girl hadn't been too pleased by that, but she had acquiesced, grumbling. Grif firmly believed that if Jillian couldn't complain, her whole head would explode.

Grif was looking at him with a carefully concealed smile. "Seems you've made a new friend."

"Please. She's a mortal. And we've more pressing concerns, right now."

They reported to Jemiah's Headquarters in the Columbia Central building. "We've been monitoring the intrusion. There's no doubt what it is. But so far, it hasn't grown, expanded, whatever you wish to call it. I suppose that's the good news.

"But the bad news, of course, is that it's here in the first place."

"And there's no doubt? It's an extension of the Darkness?"

"None. It appeared about the same time as the quake that signaled your being drawn into the Darkness. Your people, BenDarian, found the spacial warp that we're calling the 'hole.' We've been unable to move it…and there seems to be no mechanism of generation."

Devlin rubbed his chin, sitting there in the chair in Jemiah's office. "Perhaps the generator is not in this universe."

"That's what we're thinking now. But it's not wide enough to accommodate anyone to actually go through it and see…if we even dared do that."

"I can check with my Uncle Darian….as I'm sure you know, my home dimension is in contact with more than one universe. Perhaps we can find something out from our end."

"That would be most helpful."

….

The quartet sat in the taxi in relative silence, watching the city go by. Brittney hated that she had to rely on her new friends for _everything_. She resolved to pay them back every dime.

But…she knew she could never repay Devlin for all he'd done. Not only had he rescued her from her accident in the bathtub, but, according to the others (and she saw no reason to doubt any of it), he'd saved her from a literal fate worse than death: complete nonexistence in this thing they called the Darkness. What would she have done without him?

She didn't know what to make of this part about him being a demon. In all honesty, she'd never really believed in demons, or angels, and still didn't, really, if it came down to it. But she couldn't deny he'd done what no mortal could have done.

They might call him a demon, but he'd been an angel to her. An angel when she needed one the most.

And she found the notion of never being able to repay him….kinda exhilarating. It might be fun to try. "It's just down this way," she told them. "Right around that corner, and down two blocks. The Westwood Heights apartments." It would be so very, very good to be home. The taxi driver turned down the street indicated….

…..and Brittney's mouth dropped open in surprise. Because right where her apartment complex had been…

….was a four-story parking garage, right next to a small hospital. Neither one looked new. "I…I don't understand. I _can't_ have been mistaken….!"

"It's alright, Brit." Carly reassured her, "You probably just forgot the directions. With all that's happened to you, that's no surprise. We'll just look it up…." She already had her Pear phone out….

….except the browser couldn't seem to find any "Westwood Heights Apartments." "Uhm." She asked the taxi driver, "This _is_ 3182 Linwood, isn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am. See?" He showed her the GPS on his dashboard. The pulsing dot was dead center. "That's us. 3182 Linwood."

"But…but…." Brittney was confused. "How…I mean….I've lived here for two years! There's never been a parking garage or hospital anywhere close by….!"

"Wait, wait, Brit. Just calm down. Obviously, there's some mistake. Tell me about landmarks. What's nearby your apartment?"

"I….there's a Baskin-Robbins two blocks down. That's where I work…." But two blocks in the indicated direction only led them to a Burger King. "I…I don't understand…"

 _Neither do I,_ thought Carly. Sam and Jillian had been quiet throughout the proceedings. Carly could swear that Sam was acting rather peculiar around Brittney. _(But why?)_ Jillian just sucked it up in silence, arms crossed over her chest, scowling. She clearly didn't want to be here. Why couldn't she be where the action was? Babysitting mortals…how demeaning. "Okay. Well, we need to regroup. Here." She spoke to the driver, pointing to the Burger King. "Pull in here. We'll just go ask."

"Yes, Ma'am."

With the meter running, the four passengers went into the Burger King. "Excuse me," Carly asked the clerk, "but could you tell us if there's a Westwood Heights Apartments around here?"

"Westwood? No, ma'am. Never heard of it. Certainly not around here."

"What about a Baskin-Robbins? Is there one of those in this area?"

"I don't know of one around here, ma'am. Now, there's one over across the river; but that's the only one I know of."

"It…it's not across the river, I know that," Brittney stuttered. "But...but, I mean…" _How? How could this be happening? I know I'm not THAT turned around!_

As the four stood there in the middle of the fast food restaurant, they attracted the attention of two young men sitting by the window. _Hm. Nice. Especially the blonds._ One of them cleared his throat, preparing to speak to them. Maybe he'd get their phone numbers….

….and then the dark haired girl dressed in red turned and gave them such a ferociously _intimidating_ look that they both hurriedly looked away, studying their food. _Girls? I don't see no girls._

 _This is a_ _really_ _good Whopper._

….

At Carly's suggestion, the four of them ordered hamburgers and took a booth over by the window. Carly knew the meter on the taxi outside was running; she was tempted to send it away, and call for another one when needed. But no….

As usual, Sam fell on her food like she was starving, and Jillian ate her burger warily, hunched over the table, looking around, as though she was on guard against anybody trying to steal it. Carly wondered if that was a demon thing, or just Jillian. She was coming to realize that the demon girl wasn't like anyone else she knew. Then she shrugged, inwardly; somehow, she'd gotten the notion that demons couldn't eat ordinary human food, but Jillian dove in just like the rest, though she did order extra jalapenos. That made Carly smile: she wasn't sure if the world held enough jalapenos to satisfy the demoness. She, herself, ate her own burger a bit more slowly, all the while questioning a distraught Brittney, who couldn't eat a bite, such was her state of mind. "So you're sure this is the place? Well, okay…what about phone numbers? I know you don't have your phone, but do you remember any numbers? We can call and get some answers that way."

"I, I remember a few. But…"

"Do you remember your apartment complex's main number?" She pulled out her phone. Brittney gave her the number, and Carly dialed it.

" _Hello, you have reached Acer Roofing Contractors. Please listen carefully as our menu options have changed…."_ She clicked the "end" button. "Well, that's not it. Look, Brit, let's go back to our place, sort things out from there." Brittney nodded, a tear starting to trickle down her face. What was going on here?

Carly reached over and put her hand on the other girl's arm. "It'll be alright. It'll just…take some time. Maybe…maybe being down in the Darkness messed with your mind, a little. Turned you around a bit. But we'll get it ironed out, okay? So try not to worry." They got a "to go" box for her food, and went back out to the waiting taxi.

Once back at the apartment, they corralled Freddie (Sam poked and pinched him a few times, then breathed a sigh of relief. He just looked at her as though this was just standard behavior to be expected of the blond headed demon) into doing a search for phone numbers, and data in general. What they then began to find out was disturbing.

The Baskin-Robbins across the river had no record of Brittney as being an employee. There was no Westwood Heights Apartments in all of Seattle, or the surrounding area. A computer search turned up nobody with her name, in her age bracket, anywhere in the state. They couldn't find any phone number associated with her, cell or otherwise. Brittney couldn't remember her driver's license number, but her social security number led them to an elderly gentleman in Wisconsin. "Okay, what about relatives?"

"I, I have a grandmother in upstate New York. Yes, that's it! Let me give her a call…."

"Hold on," Sam put her hand on Brittney's arm. "I got a hunch. Just a hunch, but….let me make the call, okay?" Brittney nodded, and Sam pulled out her own phone, punching in the numbers.

An elderly woman's voice answered: _"Hello?"_

"Ma'am, my name is Samantha, and I'm doing a project for my school. Would it be okay if I asked you just a few questions? I promise I won't keep you long, and I'm not gonna ask for any sensitive information or anything. It…it would really help me out here…."

Pause. Then, _"Well, I suppose you can. This isn't a sales call or anything, is it?"_

"Oh, no, ma'am, nothing like that at all. I just wanted to ask you a few questions for my school project. I, uh, _could really_ use the extra credits." Carly rolled her eyes. Sam was pulling out every trick in the book: the high school girl with a time-sensitive project, the hint of failing grades, the need for extra credit…and delivering it all in a higher pitched tone of voice, as of someone quite a bit younger, with just the right hint of desperation. (Sam _never_ called herself "Samantha," unless it was a matter of life or death. And sometimes not even then.) "I promise not to take up much of your time, and of course I won't use your name on anything. So, can I ask you a very few questions? Okay, good. Now, tell me: how many are in your household? Just you? Do you have any children?"

" _Yes, two grown sons. One's in construction, the other's an accountant for a large firm, and I'm proud of 'em both."_

"Do they have any children?"

" _My youngest son has two boys, and let me tell you, they are a handful. When they come over, it's all I can do just to keep up with them."_

"No granddaughters?"

" _No. My oldest son used to say he wanted a daughter, but it never happened, and now he's divorced. So it's just the two grandsons. Now, what's all this about, young lady?"_

"Just a kind of survey, ma'am. Like a census. But one last question: does the name _Brittney_ mean anything to you?"

There was a pause over the line. Then, _"No—o, can't say it does. You don't mean that singer, do you?"_

"Uh, no ma'am, not her. But that name…there's no one in your family named that?"

Before the woman on the other end could say anything, Brittney had grabbed the phone away from a startled Sam. "Grandma, it's me! Brittney! Don't you remember me? You used to call me Little Brit!"

" _What?! Is this some kind of joke, young lady? If so, I've a good notion to report you to the authorities! Now get off this phone and don't call me back!"_ _Click!_ -went the line on the other end.

Brittney stared in shock at the dead phone, her face pale. "She—she didn't know me…she practically raised me, and she didn't know me! What's going on? _What's going on?"_

"I don't know any way to sugarcoat this." Sam looked her full in the face while gently taking the phone away from her. "But the only thing I can think of is this: We did rescue you from the Darkness, all right. And we brought you back to Earth.

"But not _your_ Earth."

 _To be continued…_


	23. Chapter 23: Investigations

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 23: Investigations

…..

 _I don't own iCarly._

… _._

Chapter 23: Investigations

Devlin and Grif were finishing up in Jemiah's headquarters, when the ninth circle demon suddenly got a faraway look in his eyes. "Devlin?"

"Uhm. Yes. It—it's Brittney. Something's wrong. Very wrong." He visibly shook himself, rubbed his eyes, and turned back to his reluctant ally. "Now, where were we?"

"We _were_ planning an investigation of this intrusion." Grif's eyes narrowed. Like the demon, he could see far more than the exterior. "But I think you've got something to do first."

"Don't be ridiculous. This is vastly more important."

"It's also something you'll not be able to devote your full attention to until you resolve this other matter. Now what did you sense?"

"None of your bus—oh, what am I saying. Something's happened with Brittney. I can feel her anguish all the way over here."

Uncharacteristically, Grif put his hand on the demon's arm. "Go see about her."

Devlin shadowcloaked straight into Carly's apartment, and immediately noticed Brittney sobbing on the couch, Carly and Sam on either side of her, trying to comfort her, with Freddie looking on. He looked at Devlin and shrugged.

Devlin could already tell something about what had happened, but so overwhelming were Brittney's emotions that they actually blocked his ability to discern details. He approached the couch, trident retracted and secure in its holder, and cleared his throat. "Excuse me."

All three of them looked up at him, Carly and Brittney with expressions of relief, Sam…with an unreadable expression on her face. "What happened?"

Sam gestured towards the distraught girl. "We just discovered Brittney, here, isn't from this Earth. Probably, what, a parallel dimension or something?"

"And, with all the tact and subtlety of a pile driver, you just _told_ her, right?" He shooed them away from Brittney, and sat down beside her. "Come on, Brittney. Here. Lean back." The crying girl leaned back—right onto his shoulder. He had to keep from starting; he hadn't really intended _that._ But…. "Now, just breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Just breathe. Take your time." And he drew off her feelings of fear, anxiety, confusion, and a host of others. She began to calm down.

Sam looked like she was about to burst.

Carly noticed. "C'mon, Sam, Freddie. We can't do any more here." She began to usher them out of the room.

"Wait." Sam's voice was as livid as her face. "You're actually gonna _leave her alone with him?_ "

"Yes I am. Just as I left him alone with you, in the Darkness. Now, come on, Sam. Out." They were both surprised by the tone of authority in Carly's voice.

Things were not the same as they had been.

After a while, Brittney began to calm down. "Now tell me what happened," he said, still holding her.

She took a shaky breath and began. "I don't exist. Not on—in—this world. Nobody knows me, all my ID numbers either don't exist or belong to somebody else…Devlin, my own grandmother never heard of me!" She looked up at him in horror. "I spent every summer at her house, all my high school years, and one year of college there, but, but she doesn't know me!"

On pure reflex, he put his arm around her and drew her close. In the back of his mind, he wondered: why was he doing this? But demons are creatures of almost pure emotion; he went with the instinct, and pulled her into an embrace. Her arm automatically went around him, and she clung to him. "You made sure? All numbers, any other relatives, everything?" She nodded, tears still running down her face.

"I, I don't belong in this world. Something…something went wrong, and, and….oh, I don't know! I'm just so…"

He drew off more of her fear and confusion. It was like a tidal wave; it just kept coming. "Come on, Brittney. It…well, I won't say it'll be alright, but, but we'll find a way to, to do something about it."

She looked up at him. "Can you get me home?"

 _Probably not_ , he thought to himself, careful not to let that show in his face. "I won't lie to you. I've never heard of this sort of thing happening, but then this whole 'pulling people out of the Darkness' thing is still relatively new to all of us. We've long known the Darkness touches on more than one universe, more than one world-line. But exactly how to use that knowledge, how to get you home….Brittney, I just can't promise anything."

"But, but you'll try?"

 _I really have other things to do,_ he was about to say. _Such as trying to save this world from sliding down into the very Darkness we just came from._ But those clear blue eyes looking up into his just did something to him. "No promises, Brittney. But my home dimension, the Hell universe, does touch on many other universes as well. Not all, but a lot. I….I'll ask my uncle, see if anything can be done. But don't get your hopes up, okay? Your world-line may not touch on mine at any point. And in any case, there's….well, there's an awful lot of them. Finding yours…could be…difficult." Now how would he persuade Uncle Darian to actually put forth the effort to find this girl's home time-line?

Well, he'd think of something.

All she'd heard of that, however, was "I'll see if anything can be done." That was all she needed, and she clung to him ever more tightly. In the back of her mind, she was a bit embarrassed by this, this "girly"-type behavior; she'd always considered herself to be a modern and self-reliant person. But everybody has their limits. Finding yourself trapped in a world that looks like yours, but isn't, cut off from everything and everybody you knew, was apparently a really _big_ button she didn't even know she had.

Thank _God_ for Devlin!

Carly caught Sam peeping on the couple on the couch. "Sam?"

"Sh. I can't hear what they're saying."

"You're not supposed to! Sam! You're stalking them!"

"I am not! I just wanna make sure he doesn't, you know, try anything, that's all."

"And what exactly would you do about it if he did? Sam. Come on away from the door. Let 'em have some privacy."

Sam turned, reluctantly from the door she'd cracked open. "Why do you _trust_ that, that… _thing_ so much? You know what he is!"

"Yeah. I know what he is. He's the guy who saved your life, twice, down in the Darkness, and the guy who saved Brittney _from_ the Darkness. And, and, even if, you know…she isn't where she came from….it still beats being _in_ the Darkness. And he's the guy who did that."

Sam shook her head in fury. "You're _deliberately blinding_ yourself. He's a _demon._ By definition, he can't be trusted!"

"Sam, listen to yourself. _You_ trusted him, for _years._ And did he ever really hurt you? It's true he didn't come right out and say he was a demon, but if he had, would you have believed him?"

Again Sam shook her head, lips thinned together in anger. "You don't understand."

 _I think I understand all too well._ Aloud, Carly said, "Well, maybe I don't. But in the meantime, we've other problems. Grif tells me his people are mounting an investigation team to go look into this, this…whatever it is, in Lake Superior. I don't know what our role in it will be, if any, but, well, maybe we'll just be support crew. In this case, that means supporting and helping Brittney there. How would you feel if that was you out there?"

….

"….Aaaaand…you guys are saying you're actual _angels?_ " Dr. Weston was trying to wrap his mind around the concept. And clearly failing.

Dr. Phillips, on the other hand, was nodding. "Makes a certain amount of sense, George. Now what was done to that timer…yeah. It stands to reason they could control time."

Weston turned to his friend. "You mean you're actually _buying_ all this?"

"You mean you'd rather they be space aliens? Terrorists with super science? Time travelers from the far future? How would that be better? Maybe that's what we call 'space aliens' actually _are._ And remember, just because they call themselves 'angels' doesn't mean they're necessarily anything like what we've been taught. Keep an open mind."

"Yeah, but _angels?_ "

"And demons," said Darian BenDarian, standing over by the window in Jemiah's office. Weston looked at him as though reminded of his presence, suddenly. Curiously enough, he found the notion of demons more believable than that of angels. Maybe because they'd just been overpowered and tied up by superhuman beings who, judging from their comments, weren't all that nice.

But where were the horns?

"Yes, angels. I, myself, am leader of the Host of the Seraphim, the Judges, here on Earth. And the reason we now reveal ourselves to you is this." And Jemiah gestured, and the three-dimensional image of Lake Superior, as seen from orbit, sprang into existence. "We tell you this because, like it or not, you are already involved. The explosion at Mt. Adams was done in an effort to combat something we call the Darkness, which is a condition unlike anything you can imagine. Basically, it is a condition of non-existence. And it is a condition that is now preying upon your world." The scene zoomed in on the spot on Lake Superior. "We believe this to be a sign of its encroachment upon your world." Weston and Phillips stared in disbelief. The Darkness? A condition of nonexistence? And it was…. _here?_

"That's…I know you've checked it out, made sure it's not just some perfectly normal shadow or something."

"We have. No shadow would have caused Lake Superior's water level to drop. Nor would a shadow be affecting weather patterns." And they could see for themselves the fluffy white clouds beginning to curve around the spot of Darkness, like iron filings in a magnetic field. "The effect is small now, but if unchecked, it will endanger your world as surely as a black hole would."

…..

"…will of course defray the cost of her staying here, but I don't feel it's a good idea for her to be too far from you and your group right now. So, you're sure it'll be okay, her staying here with you?" Devlin was talking with Carly. Sam had taken Brittney into the guest bedroom and was getting her situated there.

"Of course it'll be alright. We wouldn't be very good friends if we turned our backs on her now."

He smiled, but there was something almost bittersweet about it. "Thank you, Carly. You _are_ a good friend." He turned to go. "Even in Hell, we honor friendships." A pause. "Perhaps _especially_ in Hell." Then he was gone, shadowcloaking back to the Columbia Building. Carly watched him go, a smile on her face. Devlin put on such a big show of being such a bad guy, but she wasn't fooled.

Brittney appeared, coming out of the guest room with Sam. She seemed to finally have herself under control. "Brit? How's it going?"

The blond girl nodded. She didn't look happy, but then, Carly hadn't really expected her to. Rescued from the Darkness, only to find herself in a world, a universe where, apparently, she didn't exist, was something that could break the mind of a weaker individual. Carly admired the way she was holding up. "I'm tired of crying. It seems like all I've done, ever since I came here, was cry, and I'm tired of it. I'm just so very tired of it. Maybe there's something I can do around here? It'll help take my mind off…stuff."

"Oh, sure! We'll find something for you to do. Sam and I do a web show; you can help with that. Hey, Freddie! Show Brittney how we do things, okay?"

"Sure." Freddie had been tinkering—carefully—with the router Grif had given them so long ago, when they'd believed he was only human. With the discovery that he was actually an angel, and that the router employed some means of working that originated in his universe, the Heaven dimension, it had become Freddie's passion to learn more about it. It didn't seem to involve wires, conduits, or anything that humans could recognize as circuitry, but Carly had no doubt that, if human minds could puzzle it out, Freddie would be the one to do so. "Right over here." He led her to the table where his laptop was. "Okay. What do you know about computers?"

"I do okay with 'em. I'm not exactly a whiz, but I get by."

"Well, it should be no trouble to teach you. Here. Which operating system are you used to using? iOS or Windows? Linux, maybe?"

She looked puzzled. "What are those?"

"Uh…what sort of operating system do you use?"

"'Crystal.' I've never heard of a 'Windows.'" She looked at the laptop. "Mine looks different. _Looked_ different, I mean." She pointed to the top edge of the laptop's screen, at the spot where the camera was. "Is that the neural scanner?"

Freddie was silent for a minute. Then, "This is startin' to sound like the beginning of a voyage of discovery."

…

Drs. Weston and Phillips were on the angel airship flying out into Lake Superior to investigate the Darkness. They had both first thought that it was their government connections that had attracted the attention of the Immortals, but that proved not to be the case. Both the angels and the demons had connections even higher. _Figures,_ thought Weston, _always suspected the higher levels of government had some demonic influence._ The angels he still wasn't sure about.

Jemiah had nixed their initial idea of using military transportation. If this was what they were afraid it was, not only would it be highly dangerous to the mortals simply due to the physical effects, but there were also psychological effects occasionally associated with the Darkness. Sometimes the Darkness had been known to latch onto mortals' minds, with unpredictable but invariably unpleasant results. It wasn't unheard of for humans to be suborned, their free will suppressed, becoming living extensions of the Darkness. Also, it wasn't unheard of for _things_ to emerge from the Darkness, things no mortal had any power against. The angel airship provided better protection. "You're in on this," said the one called BenDarian, "because you're already involved anyway. And we can use your input. It would be stupid to waste a resource, and you are that." Thus saying, he detailed two demons to accompany them. Should worse come to worst, the demons could teleport them back to safety.

The airship—which could function as a watercraft, or a spacecraft, should the situation call for it—was bringing them closer to the phenomenon. "Aren't you excited, George?" Phillips was rubbing his hands with glee. "We get in on the ground floor of a transcosmic event! This is what I've always dreamed of! And," and here, he glanced around at the angels and demons, "we've learned so much about, about the way things REALLY work. This is what I went into physics for in the first place!" He was as excited as a kid at Christmastime.

"Yeah," replied his friend. "We know a lot. Maybe too much." He glanced uneasily at their attendant demons, whose tridents were retracted and carefully put away. "I could see that as being an issue at some point."

The horizon came closer.

 _To be continued…_


	24. Chapter 24: Intrusions

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 24: Intrusions

….

 _I don't own iCarly. Wishes, wishes…._

… _.._

Chapter 24: Intrusions

….

Back at Carly's apartment:

Carly was gathering some items, stuffing them into a backpack she had. She was alone in her room.

"Carls?" Sam appeared in the door. "What are you doing?"

Carly hesitated for a long moment. Then, "Sam….I don't know how to explain it, but I've got the weirdest…feeling, hunch, intuition, what have you….you know that parking garage where Brittney's apartment complex was supposed to be?"

Sam looked at her sideways. "Y….yeah. I do." _Carly, what are you up to?_

"I can't shake the notion that there's something there, some…I don't know, some clue, something, that, that needs to be found. There's gotta be a reason why Brittney was drawn into the Darkness to begin with. She was nowhere near either the convention center or Mt. Adams. That's the only connection."

"Carly…please tell me you're not about to go make like Nancy Drew all over that garage."

"I'm just gonna go look, that's all. Just a look. It's one place we haven't examined; I just think it needs to be. I think it corresponds to a, a point of entry into our world, or maybe the Darkness. There's probably something there. I can't explain it, but I'm almost sure I'll find something."

"More than likely something will find you! Carl-EE! You can't possibly be thinking of just rampaging over that whole garage! If Grif were here, he'd nix that idea in a heartbeat!"

"Then it's a good thing he isn't here, isn't it? Don't try to stop me, Sam. I don't know why, I just know I've got to go look."

Sam looked at her friend. There was a certain set to Carly's face that she'd never seen before, a look of…of _determination_. Carly had often been somewhat unsure of herself in many situations; evidently that had changed. "Carls. Before you go charging off, there's something you should know. About yourself."

"Huh? What?"

"Come over here." And Sam led her to a full-length mirror over on her bathroom door. "Now. Just stand there a moment, okay? And watch yourself." Obediently, Carly stood there, watching her reflection in the mirror.

Sam moved closer, until she was at Carly's shoulder. She placed a hand over Carly's opposite shoulder, and looked with her into the mirror. "Now, listen: Devlin is from Hell, right?"

Carly was puzzled. "Yeah, that's right. The Hell dimension, or universe. So?"

Sam moved up closer to Carly's ear. "Damn it to hell," she whispered.

Carly flinched.

"There! Carly, did you see that?"

"See what?"

"You jumped when I cussed. You didn't when I said about where Devlin was from, but when I used it as a cuss word, you flinched."

"I did not! I just…."

"Watch yourself, Carls. _Shit._ " Carly jumped, noticeably. "See that? You didn't used to do that."

Carly was nonplussed. "Er, well, okay, I, I guess so. But, but what's that got to do with anything?"

"Carly, don't you see? You don't jump when it thunders anymore. That's the old you. But now, when you hear bad language, you jump. And this started just about the time you started seeing Grif hot and heavy."

Carly didn't know what to say. It was true; she no longer feared thunderstorms…and she'd just seen herself flinch when Sam had sworn. "I, I don't understand…."

Sam turned her friend around and looked her straight in the eye. "Carls. _You're changing_. You're taking on characteristics _like him_. Yeah, the cuss word thing, he's stronger, more used to it, so it doesn't show on him like it does on you, but ever since you've been hanging around him, _you're becoming like him._ "

Carly could only stare at Sam, mouth agape, completely stunned.

"Try to lie to me, Carly. Just try. What color is your hair? Say 'blond.'"

"B-blo-*" A spasm of, not exactly pain, but _discomfort_ shot through Carly. She couldn't finish the word. "S-Sam?" She sounded weak and unsure.

Sam put her arms around her. "I've noticed this for some time now. I'd kinda hoped I was wrong. But it's true, Carls. You're _changing_. I don't say you're changing for the worse, no, not that, not necessarily. But…things about you are different. This _feeling_ you have, about going to that garage….that's from the new you. The old Carly wouldn't have had such an intuition. And, even if you had, would you have been so willing to rush off right into the lion's jaws, so to speak? Alone?"

"So…so now what?" Carly was reluctant to leave Sam's embrace; it was comforting, and…yes, a piece from her old life, her old, familiar life. She rested her chin on Sam's shoulder. If what Sam said was true, she herself didn't know what she'd do next. "Sam? What if that's….I mean, I guess it is true, isn't it? What does it mean?"

"It means," said Sam, as seriously as Carly had ever heard her, "that you're becoming like him.

"You could be turning into an angel."

…

Lake Superior: the angelic airship flew onward. Weston and Phillips watched the horizon, and presently were rewarded with the sight of what appeared to be a tornado, a strangely stationary tornado, one of utter darkness, connecting the water to the upper atmosphere. Normally, atmospheric phenomena such as tornadoes waver from one side to the other, being, essentially, drains from one more energetic level of air to a less energetic level. But this one seemed to be perfectly stationary. Of course, they all knew it was no tornado at all.

It was something far, far worse.

"How close can we approach?" Weston asked the angel in charge, who'd been introduced as Remiel. The angel wasn't standing at any control panel or anything, but the ship seemed to respond to his thoughts alone. That made sense to Phillips, even if Weston was still having trouble with such. _Any technology, sufficiently advanced, will be indistinguishable from magic._ And what might exceed even magic? He was fairly certain the angels were operating on that level.

"Unknown. But we are scanning for physical effects. So far, we've noted a vacuum effect in the atmosphere that does not appear to be reflected in the water."

"Huh? You mean it's not drawing in the water?"

"The lake level has dropped somewhat, it is true. But there doesn't appear to be quite the suction effect that is evident in the atmosphere. Why, is unknown."

"Could it," hypothesized Phillips, "have something to do with the greater abundance of life in the water, as opposed to the air?"

Remiel considered this. "That is a distinct possibility. I am even now sharing it with High Command." He paused, cocking his head to one side. "However, from what we know of the Darkness, it would seem to work the other way."

…..

The parking garage on Linwood: in spite of Sam's revelation to her, Carly still felt the need to investigate, to do something. Needless to say, Sam had accompanied her.

"Let's see….Brittney said her apartment number was, what? 2113? Okay, second level, slot 113…" They looked about the darkened garage, their flashlights pointing the way. "Sam…what's that?"

Sam looked in the direction Carly's flashlight was shining, towards the parking slot. There was a large sedan sitting there, blue with dark trim. "Uh, a car? Carls, it _is_ a parking garage."

"If it's a car, how do you get in? Look at the doors." Sam did, and saw what Carly was talking about. Where the doors should be, there were no seams; the sides of the vehicle were smooth and unbroken.

"Dunno. Maybe it's one of those with the gull wing doors?"

"Wouldn't they also have to have some sort of separation, something to show where they were? And look: do you see the tires?"

"Y-yes…."

"I don't know much about cars, but aren't tires round with an upper surface? Those merge directly into the body of the car." She moved a little closer, flashing her penlight at the strange object.

"Carly! Don't! You're right, there's something weird about that thing! Don't get too-*"

At that point, a rumbling sound began to pervade the garage. Both girls looked around; to veteran West Coast dwellers, earthquake reflexes are part of the package. But this was no earthquake.

Before either of them could react, the thing in slot 113 seemed to partially melt, then grew upwards, morphing into a more-or-less anthropomorphic form, its glass, steel, and fiberglass body changing into a semi-humanoid form.

Sam and Carly moved back, but it was too late. The thing's "arms" reached out and snared them. They found themselves firmly caught within an unbreakable net of metal and fiberglass.

….

"So…in your world, there's _twelve_ planets? That's awesome! Is Pluto one of them? Here they downgraded it…."

"Yes, it's still considered a planet." Brittney was learning the ropes of Freddie's computer. She was a remarkably fast study, even if she did keenly feel the loss of the "neural scanner" she'd asked about. Freddie would have given a year's pay to get his hands on a computer with that. "That, and Aster, Yuggoth and Shaggai make twelve. Uh, that is, in my world." She spoke distractedly, fingers clicking away on the keys. "But those last two are really way, way out. They weren't even suspected until they launched the new Hawking quantum orbital 'scope. Even then, a lot of people argued they weren't really in orbit around our sun, so they couldn't technically be called planets, at least not _ours,_ but it turned out they do, so the textbooks got re-written. Again."

"You still use books over there?"

"Sure. Yeah, it's all online, same as here, but, yeah, books." She squinted her sky-blue eyes at the screen, scrunching up her face. He found her expression almost irresistibly cute. "What's 'Wookiepedia' anyway?"

…..

"Carls?"

"Yeah, Sam?"

"I don't suppose you had a backup plan for this, did you?"

Carly grimaced. "Well, _actually_ ….." The two were currently firmly ensconced in the metal "fists" of what looked like a refugee from a Michael Bay movie. Nor was it done transforming. As they watched, parts of it flowed like quicksilver, reshaping itself into something….something even more terrifying than it already was.

" _Miss Carly?"_ Carly would have jumped, had she not been so firmly held. The tiny voice had come from within her pocket. She twisted around, unable to actually move, but enough to glance down at her left jeans pocket.

A small, bewhiskered face was poking out of the pocket. _"Miss Carly? It's me, Stuffins."_

"Stuffins? What are you doing here?"

"Carly, who are you talking to?"

"It's Stuffins, Sam. He's in my pocket."

Sam's eyes widened. "Carly, there's a mouse in your pocket!"

Carly could feel Stuffins putting his paws on his hips. _"I beg your pardon?! I am NOT a mouse! I am a RAT!"_

"She didn't mean it in any bad way, Stuffins. How'd you get there?"

" _I followed you. Something told me to. I looked for the other girl—the lonely one, the one who lives in the same building as Mr. Grif—to get her to come with me, but I couldn't find her."_

"Well, thank goodness you found us! Can you do anything?"

"Carly, _who are you talking to?_ " Sam sounded as though she was doubting her friend's sanity. Which she probably was.

"I told you. It's Stuffins, Sam. He's a rat, and he lives in Grif's apartment. He followed us. In my pocket, I guess. I never even noticed." To Stuffins: "Stuffins, go get help! Find Grif or Devlin, or Jillian!"

" _Okay."_ The small rat squirmed out of her pocket, and, unnoticed by the giant mechanism / being / thing holding the two girls, scampered down to the floor of the garage, and disappeared into a crack by the elevator. Sam's gaze followed the small creature.

Then she turned to Carly. "So. Carly. How long you been talkin' to rats?"

 _To be continued…._


	25. Chapter 25: Battle

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives: Chapter 25: Battle

…

 _I don't own iCarly, of course._

… _._

Chapter 25: Battle

At the Burger King: Jillian was wondering why this ridiculous mortal establishment didn't have more jalapenos to put on the burgers.

At least they had some. Most mortal "food"—what passed for food here—seemed terribly bland to her. Why make food with no taste?

Although she'd sooner be tortured than admit it, she was moping there in the restaurant. Not only were Grif and the Snitch getting to have all the fun, here she was stuck here on the topside of the planet, all by herself. No Roger. No Spencer. Nobody.

Grief.

So she sat there, resting her chin on her arms in front of her, and moped. She'd ordered a large drink, and was disappointed to discover that the "Orange Lava Blast" was actually a cold drink. Would it be so impossible for these stupid mortals to make a drink containing _actual lava?_ Wouldn't that just be truth in advertising?

She was so engrossed in her own misery that she didn't notice the small rat scampering up onto the table in front of her. _"Lady? Miss Jillian?"_

What the-? "Grief. I can't get away from you guys anywhere, can I? And I've told you: _I'm no lady._ I'm a _demon_. Don't forget it."

Stuffins stood up on his hind feet and looked at her. The rat's gaze was actually making her a little uncomfortable, like he was seeing something below the surface. Then he said, _"Miss Carly and Miss Sam are in trouble! They went to that garage where Miss Brittney's apartment was supposed to be, and something caught them! You've got to come help them!"_

"Oh, I've 'got to,' do I? And why precisely is that? I'm not their babysitter. They made their fire, they can bathe in it."

" _Come on, Miss Jillian! They need you!"_

"Give me one good reason-* At that moment, somebody behind the counter shouted, "A _rat_! Quick, somebody, kill it! The Board of Health will shut us down!" One of the workers grabbed a broom.

Jillian felt her temper starting to rise. "Ex- _cuse_ me? The _rat_ is with _me._ You leave him alone!" Then, "C'mon, Stuffins, is it?" She sighed. "Let's go charge to the rescue." One flip of her shadowcloak, and they were gone, leaving the clerks and the other customers to shake their heads. But several of them just shrugged. This was Seattle, after all.

 _{{Hey, Snitch.}}_ Devlin was startled when Jillian 'pathed him. _{{Jillian?}}_

 _{{Yeah. I got word there's an active Darkness intrusion at that garage where your little mortal groupie thought her apartment was. Sam and Carly are there, and Stuffins, here, is telling me they're in trouble.}}_

 _{{Sam's in trouble? I'm—make that we-are on our way.}}_

Shortly, the three of them materialized on Linwood, the two demons shadowcloaking in, with Grif appearing in his usual electric tornado.

Things had taken a turn for the worse.

The garage looked like it had been hit by heavy mortar fire. They couldn't see a single intact automobile. _I hope there was nobody in there,_ thought Grif. He thought, and his golden armor appeared around him, the sword materializing in his grip, its inherent energy producing a bright glow. He noticed the two demons had extended and activated their tridents, which were glowing with Hellfire. "What happened here?"

"Not sure," said Jillian. "The rat just told me something caught the girls, something that changed as he watched. That sound familiar to you?"

"No, but it might be something from the Darkness. Something that was trapped there. What were they doing here, anyway?"

"Dunno."

Then they heard a tiny voice coming from Jillian's pocket. _"Mr. Grif? I think they were looking for some reason why Miss Brittney was in the Darkness."_

Grif nodded. "Stands to reason, though it doesn't really sound like Carly." He looked around at the devastation. "But what happened here?"

At that moment, they saw something emerging from the rubble. It was large and more-or-less anthropomorphic, with a robotic-seeming body topped by a huge crystal sphere. There were no eyes or any other features.

And it had three arms, terminating in plastic spheres. Within each sphere was a human: Carly was in one, Sam in another, and Spencer in a third. Spenser was apparently replying to an earlier question by Carly. "…Told you, I followed you. I figured from the way you two were acting, you were probably gonna do something stupid." He put his hands up against the walls of his own plastic prison. "Looks like I was right."

"So you went and did something stupid right along with us? Spenser. What. Were. You. Thinking?"

"I was trying to look out for you, Carly! Isn't that sorta what big brothers are supposed to do? Besides…"

Sam, encased in her own plastic sphere, noticed the three Immortals first. "Hey, you two. Looks like the cavalry has arrived." She noticed Devlin, and her face twisted down into a scowl. "Well, kind of."

"So. Angel. What's the plan?" Both Devlin and Jillian stood ready.

Grif took note of the scene tactically. He could hear, in the background, the sirens of the approaching mortals' First Responder units. They have to move quickly, if they wanted to avoid entanglements.

But no matter what, he was not about to leave the love of his Immortal life in the clutches of some _thing._ "Okay. Devlin, you and Jillian get Sam and Spencer out of there. I'll get Carly. We can't attack it without first making sure they're safe. _Go."_

The two demons levitated pieces of rubble, and sped towards their respective targets. "Hang on, Carly, I'm coming!" He unfurled his wings, the golden triangles of Light shining like the sun, and took to the air, at the same time watching the monstrosity, watching for any surprises.

They weren't long in coming. As he sped towards the bubble holding Carly, the thing's chest opened up, to reveal a mass of tentacles, clearly organic in nature, that reached out for him.

He cut through the tentacles, hacking his way through them, but for each one he cut off, two more sprouted from within the monster's chest.

He sped closer, ignoring the tentacles, and plunged his sword deep into the organic core of the thing, channeling his power into it.

To his amazement, the organic "heart" seemed to drink in the energy charge, sprouting even more tentacles. "Watch out, you two! This thing seems to absorb energy!"

"Let's see it absorb _this_." Devlin had closed in on the plastic cage that held Sam. Now he channeled a blast of Hellfire directly from his trident, straight into the thing's heart.

The organic heart fell back before the mighty heat, but rallied, and came back with more tentacles, some now reaching out for Devlin. "Uh, I think you got its attention, Devlin," Grif remarked, even as he hacked and cut his way towards Carly. "This may get complicated." He could hear the sirens drawing closer. "Hang on, Carly, I'm coming!"

Jillian had reached the plastic bubble that held Spencer. "Let him _go!_ " And she brought her trident down on the thing's "wrist."

Supercharged with Hellfire, the trident cleaved through the strange metal—if it was metal—like the war axe of God Himself, completely severing the bubble from the monster it belonged to. The bubble started to fall, but she reached out and caught it, thrusting her hand into the internal material of the thing, wresting it upon the piece of rubble she was levitating, Not bothering to use her trident, she burned through the substance to Spenser by hand. "C'mon, Spence! Grab my hand!" Spencer did so, and was hauled out of his former prison. Jillian let the "hand" of the thing fall to the ground. "Thanks, Jillian. I owe you big time."

She looked at him, just for a moment. That was an attractive thought. "Yeah. Yeah, you do, don't you?" She smiled a dirty smile, even as she maneuvered her piece of rubble away from the main monster. "Maybe we can…discuss that later."

Meanwhile, Grif had hacked his way through to the plastic bubble that held Carly. "Grif! Look out!" He turned just in time to deflect another set of tentacles.

With one clear swipe, he cut into Carly's prison, grabbed her hand, and hauled her out of the bubble, holding her with his left arm, while he continued to cut his way through a forest of tentacles. "What _is_ this thing, anyway?" Carly asked.

"Probably something from the Darkness. You were looking for a, well, maybe not so much a portal as a _connection_ to the Darkness, weren't you? And it seems you found it. Sometimes things come out of the Darkness. Horrible things." He pointed with his sword, even as he flew them both away to a safe distance. "Case in point." He flew a bit further. "Now what were you doing here, anyway, exactly?"

Devlin had reached Sam's bubble. Sam was torn between two emotions. On the one hand, she hated Devlin for deceiving her all those years, but on the other hand, _this_ situation sure sucked.

He burned his way through the bubble, all the while noting that the thing's chest tentacles didn't seem to be all that interested in him. They'd mostly targeted the angel, Gryphon. Why? "Come on, Sam." And he grabbed her hand, and hauled her onto the piece of rubble he was levitating, immediately moving away from the monstrosity, and joining the others.

As soon as he landed, she jumped off the piece of concrete and ran to Carly's side. "Carls! You okay?"

Carly put a hand to her head. "I'm fine, Sam. Are you okay? Spencer?" They both nodded yes.

By now the EMTs had arrived, and the first of the police cars disgorged their officers. "Holy crap. What _is_ that thing?" said one, scratching his head. Maybe he should get the AR out of the car…

"It's something from another world," Gryphon told them. Behind them, the giant had rallied, extruding more "arms," and clumsily, but with seemingly unstoppable power, reached out, seeking something or someone to put in them. "You can't fight this thing. Tell your men to fall back."

"Yeah? Who're you?"

Gryphon faced him squarely, golden armor gleaming like the sun. "I'm the angel in charge of protecting Earth from just such things as this. And I'm telling you, unless you want your men to find themselves trapped in those plastic bubbles, you'll fall back. You can't fight this thing with ordinary weapons, anyway." Devlin stood just behind him, while Jillian stood with Carly and the others.

Grif turned to her while the captain was still processing this outrageous factoid. "Jillian, take the others back home. Devlin and I will stay here and fight this thing."

"Hey! How come you get to have all the fun!" she pouted.

He appeared to consider. "You're right. You and Devlin stay here, and _I'll_ take Spencer and the others home."

It was amazing how fast her face changed. "Oh! Uh! Uh, right, yeah, I mean, yeah, you're in charge, I, I'll get these guys back home. C'mon, Spensie." And she shadowcloaked them all back to the Shay's apartment.

Once back there, Carly made straight for the TV, turning it to the local news. _"…just now streaming live from our correspondent on Linwood. It seems to be some sort of mechanical monster, but who are those two…beings attacking it?"_ The news feed showed Grif and Devlin strafing the thing, with Devlin blasting it with Hellfire, while Grif concentrated on amputating any limbs that looked suspiciously hungry. They could see the perimeter the police had established. _"Reports indicate a SWAT team is on the way…"_

Brittney had just come out of the room where Freddie had been tutoring her. She saw Devlin dive-bombing the monster, trident blazing, and gasped. "Oh, god. Please don't let him get hurt!"

Sam just made a huffing sound, crossing her arms and turning away. Devlin could take care of himself.

(Couldn't he? Why did she feel this odd twinge at the notion, the possibility that he could get hurt? For that matter, why did she resent Brittney's obvious infatuation with him?)

They watched as Grif and Devlin fought the monster. Reports were that the military had been called in for a possible air strike. Carly wondered privately if Jemiah had anything to do with that. Or BenDarian.

Speculation ran high as to who these "superheroes," as the media were calling them, might be. There were several zoom-in shots of Devlin, in his red and black uniform, trident ready and charged, riding his piece of concrete, shadowcloak trailing behind him, a look of grim determination on his face. Carly (and, privately, Sam) had to admit he cut a fine figure.

If there were real comic-book-type superheroes, Devlin could certainly be one of them.

Such was Carly's concern over the battle, and Grif's well-being, that she didn't even notice that Spencer and Jillian had stolen quietly away.

In Spenser's bedroom: Spencer was discovering the exact meaning of the term "sizzling kiss."

He'd _never_ been kissed like _this_ before. Jillian was different from anyone he'd ever known. He found himself responding automatically, pulling her hips in, and reaching up for her chest, even though her uniform was in the way.

But at that very moment, she broke away, gasping. "Uh. Spencer. I, I really should, should explain some things to you."

"Do you really have to right now?" He nuzzled her neck, at the line where her skin met her uniform.

"Yeah, I really do. Look." She pulled away a little further, holding him at arms' length. "You know I'm a demon, right?"

"Yeah," he said dreamily. "You're my kind a' demon."

"Hold those hormones a minute. I just want you to know what you're—what _we're_ —getting into here.

"I'm not a human being. Yeah, I look like one—and, yeah, in, in all the ways you're thinking—but deep inside, I'm a different form of life than anything you've ever imagined. I collect souls, Spencer! Or at least, I'm supposed to, maybe once the Black Throne decides I can once again. But I don't know if or when they will.

"Do…do you know what that means?"

"Well…I guess, technically, no. Tell me." He tried to control himself. Every fiber of his being wanted her, wanted her in a way he'd never wanted any girl ever before. All the others faded from his memory.

"It means," she said, "that I can collect your soul, the entirety of your being, into a force-globe, and basically own it, forever. That's the only way you'd ever be able to survive in my home dimension, anyway.

"And yeah, it means we'd be together forever.

"Forever's a long time, Spencer." She looked straight into his eyes, complete seriousness in her gaze. "I don't know if you're ready for that. It's a condition sorta similar to your Earthly marriages, but, in this case, no divorce is possible. It just isn't.

"So I wanted you to know that.

"But," and here she smiled a naughty smile. "That doesn't preclude us having a little mortal fun here and there. So…there's that." Now she drew him back into her embrace. "If you want to, I mean."

He felt his heartbeat racing as though it would never stop. "Yeah," he replied, "I'm pretty sure I want to."

"Then I'd…better make sure the door's locked," she breathed, drawing him over to the bed.

The door's lock snicked shut audibly, all by itself.

Back on Linwood: The two Immortals continued their battle. "Devlin! Draw its attention! I'm going for the head." Devlin complied, pouring Hellfire into the thing's chest, forcing it back.

Nothing that lives can tolerate Hellfire.

Grif flew in closer, always mindful of tricks or traps the thing might have. He reached his destination, and, with one swipe of his sword, severed the glowing crystal "head" from the main body of the monster. After that, the combination of angel Light and Hellfire proved too much for the thing, and soon it lay in melted shards and blackened tentacles, strewn up and down the street. "That," said Grif, "was way harder than it had any right to be." He hadn't dared to Speak against the thing, for fear the probability effects would wash over the nearby humans.

"So what _was_ that thing? And," Devlin looked back at the rubble that was the parking garage. "And are there more? Why did it want to ensnare humans? And," here he turned to the angel, who was still hovering over the street, as was he, "was it just my imagination, or did it seem to target you more than anyone else?"

"It wasn't your imagination." {{ _Aunt Maggie? Have you been watching?_ }}

{{ _I have indeed._ }} she 'pathed back. {{ _And your demon friend is right: it seemed to go after you, specifically, It may have trapped Carly for that exact reason: to bring you out into the fight._ }}

{{ _But why would it do that? It's almost like it was_ _designed_ _as an angel trap._

{{ _Uncle Jemiah—and High Command—need to be made aware of this_. _Also, be sure to secure that crystal "head." Some answers may lie there._ }}

Then Grif and Devlin heard an amplified voice coming from the humans' military strike team. _"You there. Come down here."_

"Should we?" asked Devlin. "I sense a complication in the making here."

Grif sighed. "Yes, let's go and let them know, at least, that this thing is dead. If it was ever alive to begin with, I mean. And get that crystal head—it may answer a lot of questions."

"Hmph." The two of them flew down to the secured perimeter the humans had established.

"Who are you?" asked the captain, who seemed to be in charge. "And what _was_ that thing? How did you take it down? Just who, exactly, _are_ you.?"

Grif sighed. This was going to take some explaining.

 _To be continued._


	26. Chapter 26: Infection

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 26: Infection

….

 _I don't own iCarly, of course._

… _._

Chapter 26: Infection

Carly, Sam, Brittney and Freddie were back at the apartment, watching the battle on TV. Then the live feed, out of focus as it was, was cut off as an announcer took over, expressing that officials had been called, and the air strike had been called off, but warning residents to remain indoors regardless, for their safety, though exactly how remaining inside a building was going to save people from being stepped on by a titan wasn't made clear. The speaker cut to a military official, who began to describe the recent events in terms of a possible terrorist attack….

"….could have told you _that_ wouldn't work, angel," said Devlin, just then shadowcloaking in, already retracting his trident, with Grif simultaneously teleporting in in his usual electric tornado. "We wasted valuable time trying to explain the unexplainable to cretins who were already determined not to believe it, anyway…"

"Devlin!" Brittney ran over to him and threw her arms around him in a bear hug. "I was so worried!"

"Ub, uh….now, now, Brittney," Devlin was startled by the force of her emotion. "There was no need to be afraid. Everything's under control." In the back of his mind, he wondered: wasn't this the exact opposite of what he _normally_ did? Normally, demons encouraged strong feelings in mortals, and the stronger the better. Yet here he was, actually trying to _comfort_ a mortal girl… "Everything's alright now." He stroked her hair while she clung to him.

"I still felt as though we should've given it a try, Devlin. Live and learn, I guess." He thought, and his golden armor disappeared, as did his sword, withdrawing into his soul, where it was normally stored. Carly ran to him.

"Grif! Are you alright?"

"Of course, Carly. But what in Home's name were YOU doing, going to that garage? You could've been drawn back down into the Darkness, and I might not have been able to find you in time!"

She hugged him close. "I know, it wasn't exactly the brightest move I've ever made, but, but it just seemed like I had to. I don't know why. Sam tried to talk me out of it…."

"Thank you, Sam."

"…but I didn't listen. Grif." And here she looked up at him. "I can't shake this feeling that, that time's like, running out or something. Like the sand in an hourglass. Something's happening, or about to happen. Something awful."

"Something awful is ALREADY happening. Devlin? You delivered that crystal head back to Jemiah?"

"I did. He didn't seem very surprised to see it, frankly." Brittney still hadn't let him go, and Grif was beginning to wonder if they'd have use a crowbar to peel the girl off the ninth circle demon. Sam was studying the far wall with unusual intensity. It seemed to be a really interesting wall. "Said something about he'd seen things like that before."

Grif sighed. "Then I guess we'd best go see what he and your uncle have discovered. Carly, Sam, Freddie…you three may as well accompany us; you're in this about as deep as anyone."

"Okay," said Sam, looking around. "Say, Where's Spencer?"

Both Grif and Carly looked away, with Carly's face turning a deep, crimson red. Devlin smirked. "They're, uhm, okay. They'll be fine so long as they don't leave the premises. The wards we've placed around this place should be sufficient to keep any malevolent influence out."

"But where are they?" Sam kept looking around, as did Freddie.

"Just come on. We'll worry about them later. It's just….they're okay for now. Now, let's go!" And Carly grabbed both their hands and hauled them, unceremoniously, into the electric tornado Grif had summoned.

In Spencer's bedroom: things had quieted down. Sort of. "I can't buh-LEEVE I let you talk me into that!" Jillian's face was almost as livid as her uniform, which as it so happened, she wasn't wearing right then. In point of fact, she wasn't wearing anything at all, and her face and bare upper torso, including her perfect breasts, were both flushing a deep crimson. Her night-black hair was only slightly tousled, and she was lying face up, propped up on her elbows, on Spencer's bed.

"ME talk YOU into it?! YOU'RE the one who practically _jumped_ on me! I oughtta charge you with rape!"

"Yeah? I'd love to see that. Where exactly would you tell 'em to serve the summons?"

Spencer got up from the bed, hauling his pants back on. "Well, _any_ way, I think we can both agree that it was a mistake of cosmic proportions."

"There's an understatement, if I ever heard one."

"Can the attitude. Just get the he-*, just get outta my bedroom."

"Be _lieve_ me, I've _never_ been more happy to leave some mortal's residence as I am now! This was worse than an exorcism." She concentrated, and her uniform reappeared. She sprang off the bed with the litheness of a jungle cat, and, in one bound, was at the door. "Shay, if I _ever_ see you again, it'll be about a million years too soon. No, wait. Make that ten trillion."

He sat on the side of the bed, shirtless, scowling. "Just _go._ "

She turned to the door knob, even as it _snicked_ open, all by itself. Just before she opened it, she turned back to him. "You _ever_ mention this, to _any_ one,an' I'll…"

"Yeah? You'll what?"

They stared at each other for a moment. Then, without a word, they leaped for each other.

…

"I've seen similar things, yes. They're from other timelines. But this just confirms what we already knew: the Darkness is spreading, and I think it's safe to say that more than one world in threatened. Brittney's Earth could be on its menu, as well."

"So what's our plan, Uncle Jemiah?" The six of them were in Jemiah's office in the Columbia Building. Darian BenDarian had been called away to confer with the Black Throne.

Jemiah grunted. "Unsure. Normally, whenever there's a case of manifested Darkness this potent, there are usually causative factors. Sometimes, humans actually _summon_ the Darkness, not realizing what they're doing, of course. I'll check with our mortal scientist friends and see if they know of any attempts to penetrate dimensional walls.

"But in the meantime, I've alert High Command, and we can expect reinforcements. That's going to be…disturbing to the temporal authorities, but they'll just have to deal with it." He gestured, and a three-dimensional image of Lake Superior sprang into view. Immediately, it zoomed in on the spot of Darkness, and the others could see the angel aircraft closing in on the site. "But we can't figure out how the 'hole' that BenDarian's people found ties in with this."

"Uncle Jemiah…Could the hole have served to transport something here, something that is actively summoning the Darkness?"

Grunt. "That's what we're supposing now. But we can't figure out how or why anyone would _want_ to summon the Darkness. What could they possibly gain by it?"

Devlin cleared his throat for attention. "Perhaps whoever is responsible for the hole seeks to simply see what would happen, should a world fall to the Darkness? After all, haven't we pretty much established that this hole leads to another world-line, another universe?"

Another grunt. "That's entirely possible. But if what we know is true, there must be mortals on this side who are actively working to summon the End of All Things. No angel _or_ demon would be so stupid. So…who would do such a thing?"

…

Spencer's bedroom: Jillian and Spencer lay locked in each other's embrace. "Where," she breathed, "did you learn to _do_ all that?" They were practically face to face, astonishment and a bit of awe on both their countenances. "Are you sure you don't have a little demon in you?"

Spencer looked as puzzled as she was. "If I do, mom or dad got around more than either of them ever let on. As for the rest, I…have no idea? It just all kinda came to me…"

"Speaking of…" And once again, she pulled him in close, beating him to the gesture by approximately two point zero three seconds.

He really couldn't have agreed more enthusiastically.

…..

Lake Superior: Dr. Phillips was the first one to see the intruder.

They'd come within thirty miles of what they'd come to call the "Darkness tornado." The angel in charge of the ship, Remiel, banked around the dark horizon ("It's an event horizon," breathed Phillips, eyes wide. Weston thought he looked like a kid sitting on Santa Claus's lap. "We've gotta have something, some probe, we can stick in there.")

Suddenly, something extruded from the tornado, something the humans' eyes at first refused to focus on. It looked like a giant crystal snowflake, but there was an aura of sheer _menace_ surrounding it that shrieked "danger!" Remiel was already banking the airship away. The two demons, still standing silently behind the mortals, drew their tridents and extended them. Weston thought he could hear, or perhaps feel, an ever-so-slight hum beginning to pervade the enclosed space of the otherwise silent airship.

For a moment, the thing was motionless, as though examining its surroundings without any visible movement. Neither of the humans could see anything resembling eyes or ears of any sort.

Then, abruptly, it turned towards the airship, and both humans could definitely hear and feel the _thrum_ of the angel defense shields coming online.

They were under attack.

Seattle, The Columbia Building: "What _is_ that thing?" asked Freddie, who, along with the others, had come up alongside Jemiah to study the lightglobe representation of the Earth. However, he felt fairly sure the answer wouldn't mean anything to him.

"Another creature from another timeline. I think this cinches it: several worlds are under attack, and by residents of the Darkness…creatures that have fallen into it and become trapped. Their nature has been changed by the conditions there. Analogous, if you will, to a starving man driven to such extremes that he will eat human flesh."

Brittney looked up at Devlin, who was standing beside her, his attention focused on the image. _That could've happened to me?_ The worst horror movie she'd ever seen paled by comparison.

"So what's the plan, Uncle Jemiah?"

"We will establish a quarantine about the phenomenon, then move to eradicate this presence. But we've yet to discover how the intrusions are happening, and until we do, they will continue to spread."

Lake Superior: Remiel had already exited the ship, and the two demons, whose names the scientists still didn't know, had taken up observation positions at the forward aeroscreen. At Grif's remote direction, Samael and Adriel, flanked by Zophiel, moved to triangulate on the horror. It didn't wait for them. Something that was the absence of light flowed in a sluggish manner across the intervening area, zeroing in on Adriel. Perhaps it figured the female angel would be the easier target. It figured wrong.

Her sword shining as bright as the sun, Adriel easily dodged the beam, if it could be called that, and pointed her sword back at it. A beam of light, too bright for mortal eyes to look at, flashed from the tip with a rolling thunderous sound. It struck the entity, shearing into the creature's crystalline structure like a laser. The monster gave out a scream that was so highly pitched the human scientists watching it could barely hear it, but counterattacked with a barely visible _shuddering_ of the space between them, which propagated in a wave, impossible to block or dodge easily. Even though Adriel managed to dodge the main thrust of the wave, part of it caught her and slammed her back into the water. Samael flew over to cover her area and make sure the monster didn't get the chance to send any destruction towards either the airship or the distant shore. The humans there had no protection against the thing's attacks. Even the angels seemed to be having problems with it, Weston noticed, uncomfortably. He looked at their demonic guardians, and saw they, too, were uneasy about the way matters were transpiring.

That made him all the more uneasy. If the demons, who presumably knew the capabilities of the angels better than he did, were troubled about this turn of events…

…Maybe everybody had reason to be worried.

Although smashed deep into the water, Adriel recovered, being unaffected by the medium in which she found herself, and headed for the surface. But just as she broke the surface, to her surprise, tentacles of water formed around her, dragging her back down. Samael noticed this, and motioned for Remiel to cover for him, flying down to where Adriel was struggling with the water-tentacles. He sliced them away, only to have more appear, with several targeting _him._ But between Adriel's and his own efforts, they managed to beat them off, and regain the sky. But now they had an additional source of attack.

The lake itself.

"It hasn't been drawing in the water," whispered Phillips, "It's been _infecting_ the water!"

At that moment, a shrill chime sounded from the control panel. One of the demons glanced down at a read out. He turned to the human scientists. "Have you informed your people of our recent revelations to you?" There was an inflection in his voice that both humans took note of, one that automatically worried them.

"No…we actually haven't had time. Our reports, what we've got so far, are still waiting to be uploaded."

"It seems _someone_ has informed _someone._ " He turned and looked at them. "There's a nuclear missile on its way here."

….

"We have to stop that nuke." Grif and Devlin were both en route to the Lake, their course paralleling the missile's path. Neither one of them had a problem keeping up with the missile, speed-wise, but it had a head start they had to beat. "And just who fired it, anyway?" They both knew the missile presented no harm to either the demons or the angels, and, within the confines of the angelic airship, no threat to the humans. Those outside, however, especially on the distant shore, would be a different matter.

"Unknown. No doubt your uncle is investigating the matter. But it's likely somebody saw us on the news, you know. Your 'explanation'…" He shook his head. "That's the problem with you angels. You give everybody the benefit of the doubt. Even if doing otherwise would be more effective."

Grif shot him an amused glance. "Speaking of 'otherwise,' what are you gonna do about Brittney?"

Devlin hunched himself a little closer on the rock he was riding. "What do you mean?"

"I know she's asked you to get her back to her home dimension. And she, at least, thinks you said you'd try. So?"

Devlin set his face in stone harder than the one he was levitating on. "That's my affair, angel. I'll thank you to keep your attentions to yourself and your own concerns."

" _Affair,"_ thought Grif, even as he grinned wider. _Interesting choice of words._ "It's plain that she's infatuated with you in any case. I suppose I wondered how you were going to handle that."

"And you can keep wondering."

The missile appeared in front of them, its contrail streaming back the way it came. "I suppose we do have more pressing concerns."

"Indeed."

The missile loomed closer….

 _To be continued…_


	27. Chapter 27: Decisions

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives: Chapter 27: Decisions

….

 _I don't own iCarly._

… _.._

Chapter 27: Decisions

Spencer's bedroom: The pair on the bed lay face up, on opposite sides of the bed, as far away from each other as they could get. "That…didn't happen," said Jillian.

"Exactly."

"No way it _could_ have happened."

"I completely agree."

She turned her head to look at him, her dark hair fanning out on the pillow. She was once again nude, but this condition did not seem to be apparent to either of them. "What in Grief's name are you even talking about?"

"I…have no earthly idea."

"What are we doing in bed together? And why are we naked?"

"I…don't know." There was puzzlement in his voice.

She thought for a minute. "Well, for Grief's sake, let's not waste it." And she rolled over onto him, hungrily.

….

Grif reached the hurtling missile first, flying in front of it. As though they'd practiced the maneuver, he and Devlin moved on either side of the nuclear warhead. Devlin grabbed hold of the missile forward fins, bending them in flight. The missile's directional system attempted to correct its course, and Grif moved to strike.

He might not know exactly how to disarm such a missile, but he did know one sure way of disarming it, one that only an Immortal like himself could do: while Devlin steadied it, he reached in through the shielded walls, through the lead sheathing, grabbed the plutonium core and hauled it bodily out of the warhead. Then he headed skyward.

Two hundred fifty miles above the Earth: he shot passed the International Space Station faster the Station's sensors could detect him, and, as if throwing a baseball, wound up for the pitch, and hurled the radioactive core into deep space. Then, aiming his sword at the core, he spoke one word, a word that no human should ever hear, and no human ever would, hear in the silent emptiness of space.

The core lit up like a star.

….

Spencer's bedroom: "I'm a lousy excuse for a demon." They were once again side by side, nude, but this time, they were much closer, and the fingers of her left hand were intertwined with the fingers of his right.

Spencer sighed and closed his eyes. They'd already had this discussion. It looked like they were about to have it again. "You are not." He closed his grip, tightening up on her hand.

"How would you know? Whaddayou know about demons?"

"I know a few things about one."

"You don't know what you're talking about. Here I am, after all this time, an' I still haven't collected my first soul. I'm a laughingstock back home."

"So why go home?"

She looked up at him. "What?"

"Why go home? If you don't like it there…"

She sighed, and lay back. How to explain this to him? "It's complicated, Spensie. Like I told you, I'm really not like any life form you've ever even imagined. My kind actually live outside of what you'd call normal time. My natural environment is…well, let's just say it's _very different_ from here."

He rolled over towards her. "You could," he suggested, "move. Relocate. Couldn't you?"

She thought. "I…I guess. I mean, there's nothing that says I _have_ to go back to….oh, no." Her eyes widened as her senses informed of what he was feeling at that moment. "Spencer…you can't possibly be feeling what I sense you feeling."

He ran his fingers lightly across her belly. Demon or not, she felt a thrill at his touch. "Why can't I?"

"Because. Because I'm a demon from Hell, Spencer! You can't be falling in love with me!"

"And again I say, why can't I?"

She looked away. "That's just the sex talking. You don't really feel that way. You _can't._ "

"We guys aren't quite that simple. Yeah, sex is great, but it can be a gateway to something bigger. Some men never go through that gateway, but just stop outside and admire the scenery.

"But I wanna go through. With you."

She threw an arm over her head. "You don't what you're letting yourself in for." She moaned softly. In all her Earthly centuries of life, she'd never really felt this way, about anybody. What was going on here? " _I'm an Immortal spiritual predator that collects souls_. I get…I guess the best word is 'nourishment' from the feelings of others. It's not a have-to kind of thing, but it makes me…stronger.

"Happier, even."

He moved up close to her. "Then be happy with me." He moved his face towards hers.

"I….Oh, Grief." His lips closed on hers in a kiss.

Demons are not very good at resisting temptation.

…

"So it's not from Brittney's world?" Devlin asked. Grif repressed a smile at the barely-heard undercurrent of relief in the ninth circle demon's voice. Devlin was doing his best to resist a superior force. Any lesser being would have already caved.

"No. We've haven't identified which world it's from, but it's safe to say it's not from any human-occupied planet. Neither was that crystalline creature." The monster over Lake Superior had finally succumbed to the combined attack from the three angels, but, like the creature Grif and Devlin had fought, it had taken way too much power to subdue it. More so than it should have. The lake itself had finally been purged; the contamination hadn't been as widespread as they'd feared, and the two human scientists were busy gathering their samples. The question both the demons and the angels were asking themselves was: were these monsters somehow being deliberately created to fight supernatural beings such as Grif and Devlin? If so, it bespoke of a bigger problem than mere "leakage" from the Darkness.

It implied the Darkness was actively and intelligently working to defeat its primary foes. It implied a Mind.

And there was no word on where the missile had come from. Even Jemiah's contacts with the Air Force had revealed nothing. It was like the missile had come out of nowhere.

….

Near the border of California and Nevada, something very strange was happening. Something strange, but also, to those who knew, something very familiar. Frighteningly so, in fact.

Nearby residents saw a spot of unnatural darkness form over Death Valley. It was not a tornado, as many thought, but a spot of darkness that formed out of a clear sky. Several farmers and ranchers saw it from a distance, and thought it a tornado, although they couldn't account for its appearance from nothing. Concerned but not truly worried, they reported the matter to the National Weather Service…

…..

Seattle: the Columbia Building: "It's happening again," said Jemiah grimly. Both Grif and Devlin looked up in alarm.

Once again, the three-dimension image sprang into being, this time showing the manifestation on dry land. "We need to be more proactive. We can't have these things materializing over populated areas. I can only imagine the body count if one of those crystalline monstrosities had hit a city. And we certainly don't need any more unknown missile attacks. Our own reinforcements are en route. Devlin, what about your people?"

"I'll contact Uncle Darian. I'm sure we can spare some troops."

Carly and her group looked on, almost incredulously. Something was happening, something of such an urgent nature than even the forces of Heaven and Hell, natural enemies, were actually working together to stop it.

Grif turned to Carly. "Carly, there is something you can do. You have that web show; it's got a lot of viewers. They need to be informed about what to do should they see one of these things. Our own people have their own communications, but sometimes reports emanating from government circles don't get believed. Also, even for us, there's a certain amount of resistance. Plus we still don't know who fired that missile. But people need to know what's happening. Can you alert them to the danger, and what to do about it?"

"Of course! We'll get back to…"

"There's no time for that, and no need. We can set up everything you need here, and faster that you could make it home. Devlin and I have to go check out this latest intrusion." Adriel, Samael, and Remiel were still guarding the Lake Superior manifestation. So far, nobody had any good ideas as to how to vanquish the portals, if that's what they were. "We may have to go back into the Darkness to stop this thing." She saw Devlin squirm slightly, restlessly. Returning to the Darkness was nobody's idea of fun.

Shortly, Carly's warning went out over the web. The warning was simple: if you saw something like this; get away. Do not stick around for an Instagram pic. Emergency numbers, not limited to 9-1-1, were given, to alert the angels directly, though Carly deliberately did not specify "angels," preferring instead, to say "specialist authorities." "After all," she explained to Sam and Freddie, after the 'cast, "You can, I guess, only ask people to believe only so many impossible things before breakfast. And speaking of which, where's Brittney? I'm starving." Brittney had offered to prepare something for the others.

Carly happened to see Sam, standing by the door. She seemed troubled about something. "Sam?"

"Ah, it's nothing."

"I know you better than that, Sam. C'mon. Level."

"Uhm." Then, "Do…do you really think they'll have to go back into the Darkness?"

"Hey, Carly…." Freddie's voice caught their attention, and prevented Carly's response. "Take a look at this."

Both Carly and Sam crowded around the laptop he was using. It was a different model than anything they were used to, but it was multi-format, so he had his choice of operating systems. He'd wondered, to himself, if "Crystal" could have been among them, given the angels' ability to traverse world-lines. But he'd seen no sign of that in the start-up menu. Even though he knew it was of no importance at the moment, he still wished he could find a copy of it somewhere. His natural technologically-oriented self was twitching at the thought of trying it out. "Look. See this graph?"

"Yeah. What am I looking at?" At that moment, Brittney entered the room, carrying a tray with assorted breakfast goodies on it. Carly noted that, for once, Sam didn't fall on the tray like a starving person. In fact, she seemed to approach the tray almost reluctantly, finally snagging a sausage-biscuit combination. And only one. Carly raised an eyebrow at her best friend, but Sam either pretended not to notice or truly didn't notice, one of the two. "So what does this graph show?"

"The interconnectivity of the web. Think of it like, like the circulatory system in a human body. This," he gestured at the screen, "is out of whack. See here?" He pointed at one dip in the graph. "These normally average out, but this decrease is markedly lower than it's ever been. See?" He brought up a comparison graph from last month. It showed a decrease in information flow, but nothing like what they had experienced this month.

"So what does that mean, Freddie?"

He chewed on a knuckle. "Not exactly sure. But there's a drop in information flow. It could be due to any number of reasons…but what worries me the most is, it all happened, it all started, just about the time you guys got drawn into the Darkness.

"I can't believe that's a mere coincidence."

Spencer's bedroom: "Spencer, you can't be serious!"

"As a heart attack. Which is probably a really good way of putting this." The two of them were still in bed, still nude, and currently locked in each other's embrace.

"But….but….we don't even _have_ that custom _!_ "

"So?"

She thought. Well, she had to admit, that wasn't really that big a deal; demons frequently adopted the customs of the people among whom they lived and worked. It just made sense.

But this….! "You don't know what you'd be letting yourself in for!"

"Haven't we had this discussion? Seems like we have."

She shook her head. "You don't understand. I'm a _demon._ Demons and humans just don't mix! Haven't you paid attention to your own mythology?"

"We mixed pretty well last night."

"That was just the sex. Which, I'll grant you, was the best I've ever had. But still, just the sex."

He curled a finger under her chin and raised her face to his. "It was more than just the sex. Yeah, that was great. But we both went through a whole roller coaster of feelings and emotions last night. I've _never_ had that happen before. Have you?"

"No…."

"And didn't we get through it?"

"Yeah…" She remembered him comforting her when she was down. That had been a nice feeling. She'd never experienced anything like that before. He'd just held her, without any sexual element, just held her pressed up against him. It had been a completely new experience for her: somebody who _actually seemed to genuinely care_ about her.

Being comforted was a new experience for her. And demons live for experience.

….

Death Valley: Grif and Devlin arrived just in time to see the swirl of dust emerge from the column of Darkness. It seemed almost without form, but as with the crystalline entity over Lake Superior, there was a tangible aura of malevolence, and what could only be called a kind of _hunger_ emanating from the thing. They paused briefly, relaying the image they were seeing to their respective high commands—and, without another word, either spoken or 'pathed, attacked.

If this creature (if creature it was) was like the others, they'd have their work cut out for them.

Spencer's bedroom: Jillian was extraordinarily busy kissing an enthusiastic Spencer when she stiffened, suddenly. "What is it?" He asked, concerned.

She looked off. "Something's happening. Something's happening _here._ " She got up, her uniform materializing around her. She gestured; her trident flew into her outstretched hand. "I've gotta go check it out."

"Alone? Hadn't you better call the others? Or have you already?"

She shook her head. He couldn't help but think how cute she looked, with her hair tousled like it was. Even as he watched, it rearranged itself, returning to its usual perfect state. _I bet that saves a fortune on salon bills._ "They're busy. This is happening _now._ " She turned to him. "But you can help. Contact your sister; I think she's at the Columbia Building, right in the heart of angel territory. Tell 'em something's up. I, I gotta go." And with one last, longing look at him, shadowcloaked from his sight.

The wreckage of the parking garage which corresponded to Brittney's apartment complex had been cordoned off, but she 'cloaked in past the "do not cross" tape. Immediately, she spotted the anomaly: not another "tornado," but a _shimmering_ in the air just above the rubble. As she watched, _things_ began to emerge.

To human eyes, they would have looked like human troops from various ages past, clothed in all sorts of ancient and modern uniforms and armor. But to her senses, they were in no wise human. Something about them had been inextricably altered; they were no longer human in any sense of the word.

"Stop right there," she ordered, hefting her trident, charging it. She didn't for a moment believe they'd actually stop. They might not possess enough humanity left to understand the words.

But stop they did, the lead ones staring at her with unnerving intensity. _C'mon, Spensie, let the others know we gotta situation here._

The foremost being looked at her unblinkingly. Then, _who are you? And why do you oppose our righteous cause?_

Demons don't sweat, but Jillian felt as if she could start right then and there. Who _was_ she, anyway? Nobody. Not even a first-circle demon. Just a lava pit guard who'd failed at that, too.

But she knew you never let the enemy see your weakness, and indecisiveness is a weakness. And she was discovering something: people don't go to war to defend the ideals of their country. They go to war to defend their loved ones, the lives of those they care about. She thought about Roger. She thought about Spenser.

"I…I'm Earth's guardian demon," she said, finally, tightening her grip on her trident. "No one gets past me."

 _To be continued…._


	28. Chapter 28: Earth's Guardian Demon

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 28: Earth's Guardian Demon

….

 _I don't own iCarly_

…..

Chapter 28: Earth's Guardian Demon.

Grif and Devlin were in the very midst of the newest monster to emerge from the Darkness. It appeared to be a living tornado, and so Devlin directed his Hellfire in such a way as to disrupt the normal energy flow of such a phenomenon. Grif charged for the very center, his sword cutting straight through the whirlwind, reaching for the center of the thing.

There was some sort of field surrounding that center, and he encountered resistance. Still he hacked away at it, reluctant to Speak against it, for fear of affecting any mortals in the area.

Suddenly, his sword was seized by some force, and the light blazing from it seemed to diminish somewhat. But he was ready for it this time.

He suddenly drew in the power he'd channeled to the sword, and focused it into a tight swirl of incandescence around the blade. Then, he flew in, and, while Devlin poured his Hellfire into the creature from the bottom, he channeled his power into it from above.

The two forces, mutual opposites, conducted through the aether like a lightning bolt, only a million times more powerful. The creature screamed a shrill scream of agony as the charge went through it. It fell back.

Then both Grif and Devlin heard a voice in their minds: _Why do you hurt us? We only want to live._ In spite of being ready for just such a tactic, Grif nonetheless felt a pang of sympathy for the creature. Living beings of any sort didn't just arise from the Darkness; whatever was there came from somewhere else. Whatever these creatures were now, they had once been people…

"Careful, angel!" shouted Devlin, as he directed a blast of Hellfire into the thing's middle. Grif followed suit immediately, aiming directly for the spot from which he'd heard the "voice." Thrashing and wailing, the only-half-visible whirlwind began to dissipate.

The two Immortals stood a ways off from it, making sure of the thing's demise. "I thought for a moment there, you were actually going to give the monster a chance, angel."

Grif shook his head. "I won't say I wasn't tempted. I'd like to believe there's something in these beings, something not completely beyond redemption. But I wasn't about to let it endanger anyone else. Especially those we," and here, he shot a glance at the demon, "care about."

Devlin grunted. "Well, anyway, I suppose-*

 _{{Grif! It's me, Carly! Spencer just called, and something's happening downtown, at that garage! He said Jillian had gone to investigate!}}_

Grif thought. How…? _{{Carly, how are you able to talk to me like this?}}_

 _{{Uncle Jemiah's boosting my thoughts. I doubt I'd get through otherwise; there's some powerful electromagnetic disruptions going on. But he said she's in danger!}}_

 _{{Hang on, Carly, we're on our way.}}_ Aloud, to Devlin: "That was Carly. Something's happening at that garage where Brittney's apartment was supposed to be. She said Jillian went to investigate it."

Devlin rolled his eyes and sighed, theatrically. "We're doomed."

Seattle: Against numberless hordes of inhuman monsters, Jillian Adara stood alone.

The mortal authorities had long since learned the hard way that their weapons had no effect on whatever these things were, and had withdrawn to a completely useless perimeter just in front of the hospital, which was even then being evacuated. But many of the patients couldn't be so easily moved, and some not at all, particularly those heavily dependent upon various life support measures. _If they can't move 'em, that'll soon become academic,_ thought the demon girl, as she moved to attack. _Best defense…_

Her declaration, about being Earth's guardian demon, had not intimidated any of the invading horde. In fact, she could literally feel their anger and hatred focus and magnify on her as they moved to form ranks. Odd to see troops of varying time periods and various nationalities synchronizing so perfectly, so effortlessly.

But what was even more odd, and more disturbing, was the strange way their emotional "signatures," what few emotions they had left, also all seemed to fall into perfect sync with each other. To Jillian, with her senses, it was pretty obvious they were no longer individual beings.

 _And there must be thousands of them. Tens of thousands._

So she dodged and weaved, Hellfire alternately blasting away at their ranks, and being used as a temporary shield, with the tines of her trident itself catching one and sending him crashing into several others. They, too, became cinders under a concentrated stream of Hellfire. She charged her feet with Hellfire, and, planting the haft of her trident in the ground, spun in a circle, producing an expanding ring of energy that drove them back…but only momentarily. She roundhouse-kicked several, while balancing herself by projecting fire from her hands in the opposite direction. She was far stronger than any fifteen of them…..but they just kept on coming. Fearlessly. Mindlessly.

 _I've gotta protect that hospital behind me,_ she thought to herself. Spencer would want her to. Home, Roger might be in there, for all she knew. And here she was, fighting a creature of one mind and thousands of bodies; she had to make sure she didn't let any of them slip behind her and either get past her to other targets or attack her from that direction. These beings might look like many, but they acted as one, the way fire ants did. The individual didn't matter; they attacked as one being. But that didn't mean they only attacked one being. _But I'm only a lava pit guard! I can't fight the Darkness!_

 _But…but there's nobody else…_

 _I can't let them get past!_

 _If only I had some sort of weapon of mass destruct-* wait. I do._ And she dropped the concealing illusion that made her eyes look like normal human eyes…and let her Hellgaze sweep over the hordes.

The results were mixed. Most of the oncoming thralls virtually exploded into fire, while others suddenly withered into mummy-like forms in the space of a heartbeat. But about half of them kept coming, in spite of her continued 'gaze, seemingly unaffected by it. Since nothing that lived could look a demon in the eyes and keep on living, she supposed these beings must've had no life to disrupt.

No matter. That still reduced the number of her opponents, and she jumped back into the fray.

Her supernatural hearing picked up conversations, words spoken from the windows of the hospital behind her: _"…who's that?" "What's going on?" "…girl_ _doing_ _anyway?" What are those…Greek hoplites…samurai…" "…must be some sort of role playing game, or, or re-enactment…" "…you crazy or sumpim'? Re-enactment with real fire? How you get that?" "Who's the super girl?" "…super_ _cute_ _girl, you mean…" "…'S'gotta be some new show on Netflix…" "Quick, man, Google this up, gotta know who she is…"_ Stupid mortals, didn't they know when they needed to _run?_

And then she overheard another comment from some _stupid_ _male_ that made even _her_ blush. _Fella, if I live through this, I'm gonna hunt you down an' burn your yang-yang off._

An entire battalion fell before her as her trident strafed several more, and, while using the flame as cover, she levitated up onto piece of concrete for a better view, especially wanting to make sure nothing more slipped through that shimmering in the air she'd seen. She'd recloaked her eyes, just in case some fool human might be out here, and was preparing to Hellgaze the entire crew…

….When what felt like a small planet hit her from behind _and_ in front, simultaneously.

Things went dark.

Grif and Devlin reached the outskirts of Seattle within minutes. Without a word, they zeroed on the garage that, as far as anyone knew, corresponded with Brittney's apartment complex in her world.

The tableau that met them was almost stunning, even to them.

For what seemed like blocks, in all directions, buildings had been reduced to rubble, with parts of them still glowing from Jillian's Hellfire. They saw the shimmering in the air, from which the undead hordes emerged. Saw Jillian holding her own against them, not letting any of them get passed her to the hospital. Saw her levitate up, for a better perspective. And saw the two darkly shimmering blobs of _something_ slam her between them, and saw her unconscious body tumble down into the rubble.

"Come on," said Grif, needlessly. Devlin had already charged his trident. Both raced to the scene, and dove into the fray….

Jillian's eyes opened reluctantly. She really didn't want to see what it was like to be a Darkness thrall. And she'd just lost the battle, so that was the only thing she could possibly be, surely.

But aside from aches and pains Immortals don't usually have, she _felt_ the same. Somebody's hand was up under her head, holding her up. "Jillian? Jillian, wake up!" It was Spencer's voice. Spencer was here in the Darkness? Maybe things wouldn't be so bad…. "Uh. W-what…"

"Come on, wake up. We gotta get you to someplace a little safer." She woke up, to see Spencer—the real Spencer, not a Darkness version of—crouched beside her, holding her head.

"S-Spencer? W-what the Home are you doing here?"

"Trying my best to save your ass. Now come on!" He urged her to sit up. "Call me peculiar, but I just feel like it's an ass worth saving. So come on, work with me here."

The aches and pains receded as she drank in his emotions. For some reason, she was still terribly weak. "H-how did you get….?"

"I hitched a ride." He cocked a thumb as a winged figure, whose sword was flashing as she bit into the hordes of Darkness thralls. "Maggie offered me a lift."

"You…you shouldn't be here! Stupid mortal! You'll get yourself killed, or, or worse!"

"Yeah, but…." He looked up, past her, and suddenly let her drop as he jumped up, grabbing her trident in one smooth move, and impaled a thrall on the end. She snapped around in time to catch the thrall's expression as it died: no pain, no fear, just anger that it had been denied its prey.

Spencer pulled the trident out of the rapidly decaying body, and handed it to her. "Here, you can make better use of this than I can. All I can do is spear 'em. Come on, get up. How are you feeling?"

She got to her feet, the conflict around her momentarily forgotten, and stared at him. "Spencer? What did you just do?"

"What, get you awake and up? Or the zombie thing?"

"The zombie thing."

He shrugged, all the while keeping his eyes out for more threats. Between Maggie, Grif, and Devlin, the hordes of thralls were being steadily beaten back. "All I could do. I don't know how to make one of those things spout fire, so all I could do was-*"

"No, no…. _Spencer, how did you pick up my trident?"_

"Er…by the grip?"

She stared, open mouthed, at him. "Spencer, you don't understand. That trident is charged with fire from Home. You should've been vaporized!"

"Is that important right now? Come _on_ , for Christ's sakes! We've gotta get outta here!

"You mean YOU'VE gotta get out of here! Spencer, I…" And she stopped, the battle in the background momentarily taking a back seat. "Spencer. Look. There's some thing's we'll need to talk over, yes, I know, but, for now…this is my job. You've done your part. Now go on! Get to safety! I'm alright now, I'm fine." Her pains had finally succumbed to the flood of emotions washing over her from him, and she felt herself restored. "I told those creeps I was Earth's guardian demon." She turned and squared her shoulders, looking at the battle. "Time I put that into practice." And she rejoined the fray.

The thralls were finally pushed back into the spacial warp where they'd emerged from, and the Immortals were conferring among themselves, determining the best way of sealing this portal. "Here," said Devlin, at last, and levitated tons of rubble and rebar-laced concrete over and around the shimmering nothingness, until it was effectively imprisoned. "Until we know how to disperse these things, something like this will have to do."

Maggie approached Jillian. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, angel. Why'd you bring Spensie—I mean, Spencer here? He could've been killed!"

"It was either that, or he'd come on his own. When he saw where you were, and what was going on, there was no holding him back. Plus I figured you needed him here. Didn't you?"

"Don't try to patronize me! I hate it when that happens!" She fought to bring her temper under control. This wasn't the time for a full-scale confrontation. "You could 'a got an innocent killed! I thought you angels were above that sort of thing."

"Evidently we're not." Was that just a small hint of amusement on Maggie's face? "Anyway, it worked." She looked around. "Now, what's our next move?"

Jillian shadowcloaked back to the Shay apartment, and stormed into Spencer's room. She closed the door and leaned against it, breathing heavily, as though she'd just run a marathon. He looked up at her. "You okay?"

"How did you do that?"

"What, the trident thing? I told you: I don't know. It's just, while you were out, I used it to stick a couple of 'em, that was all. I couldn't make it shoot fire."

"It's like I told you, Spencer, a demon's trident is charged with Hellfire. No mortal should be able to touch it. But you did." She came over and looked at him, very carefully. "Are you sure you're mortal?"

He looked back at the illusion of her hazel eyes, complete honesty in his voice or expression. "Of course I am. Why?"

"I just told you-* Oh, grief. It doesn't matter." She sagged down on the bed, suddenly feeling tired. "Couldn't even do _that_ right." She lay back across the bed, arms to either side, her hair fanning out across the

"Huh? What're you talking about?"

"'Earth's guardian demon.' Hah! What _was_ I thinking? I couldn't guard a trash can."

He lay back next to her. "Jillian. There you go again. You were great out there; I saw the videos somebody shot while I was on the way there. I mean, you were fantastic! There must've been like, what, ten thousand of those…things out there? And you were holding your own. None of them got past you. The only way they did get to you was that, whatever it was, when apparently the Darkness took a direct hand in the battle. But until then, you were a one-woman tank battalion. You were awesome. No, more than that. You were _beyond_ awesome."

"I was pathetic."

"Were not."

"Was, too."

"Were not."

"Was, too."

"Were not."

"Was, t—mmMMMPH!" He'd silenced her by closing his lips over hers. When they broke apart, he began pulling her towards the bathroom. "Wh-wait, what are you doing _now?_ "

"You're all dusty from falling down out there in the rubble. Let's get you showered off. And after _that,_ " he said, with a wicked smile, "I think _somebody,_ somebody who's _literally_ hell on wheels in a fight, has earned herself a backrub."

Once again, she discovered the easiest way to get rid of temptation is to surrender to it.

…

"So how _do_ we deal with these manifestations, these portals?" Devlin asked. The group, Maggie included, had returned to the Columbia Building, and were conferring in Jemiah's office. Brittney had once again virtually attached herself to Devlin, to the latter's dismay. Grif smirked.

Jemiah shook his head, his expression solemn. "We've yet to come up with a way. That spacial warp that BenDarian's people found beneath Mt. Adam probably holds the key. Lines of chaos reach from it to several points around the globe. But where it originated, that we don't know."

"Mr. Jemiah, sir?" Brittney spoke up, for the first time. She was a little intimidated by the archangel. Carly couldn't blame her. "Could…could this warp thing have come from my world?"

Jemiah shrugged. "It's _possible_ , but not very likely. Usually, the technology necessary to create such self-contained and –sustaining warps is orders of magnitude above anything any human world is capable of. And there certainly, would be no _reason_ for any human world to do such a thing, at least, none that I can think of."

"I can," said Darian BenDarian. "I can think of several. It may be that the…people, or ruling faction on the world beyond this warp had come to an arrangement with the Darkness, and now seeks to deliver this world to it, as per the terms of the agreement. What they would get out of it, is unknown. Or, conversely, it could be that world itself was promised to the Darkness for some reason, and now seeks an alternate world to take its place in the debt. We demons have run into that, quite frequently. Humans can be very adept at sneaking past the fine print on contracts. Or, as was suggested, perhaps the powers that be on that other world simply wish to see what would happen, should a world slide downward, into the Darkness. As an experiment. And there are several more such scenarios."

"Hey," said Sam, "Where's Jillian? Shouldn't she be here? I mean, top level meeting, an' all…."

Darian BenDarian snorted. "'Earth's guardian demon,' indeed."

"Actually, uncle, she did fairly well, all by herself, all things considered," said Devlin, surprising even himself. The others stared. "Well, she did hold them back until reinforcements could arrive. Could any of us have done better, at her power level?"

"Don't tell me you're taking up for her, nephew."

"I only refer to the easily verifiable facts, uncle. You must admit, she accomplished her self-appointed task."

"Hmph."

"Mr. Jemiah?" Carly, "I'm curious. Has this sort of thing ever happened before? Anywhere?"

Jemiah closed his eyes in pain. "Yes. Yes, actually, it has."

 _To be continued…_


	29. Chapter 29: Then and Now

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives: Chapter 29: Then and Now

…

 _I don't own iCarly. I can wish, though._

…

Chapter 29: Then and Now

"Yes," Jemiah said, closing his eyes in pain at the memory. "As a matter of fact, it _has_ happened before."

 _Then:_ It was a world much like Earth, with a pleasing mixture of temperature, atmospheric gases, water content, and abundant natural resources, ideally suited for the comfort, even the luxury, of _homo sapiens_. It was also a world about to die.

Seen from space, one could see missile contrails crisscrossing the surface, back and forth, their terminations marked by nuclear explosions of such savagery as to be visible from hundreds of thousands of miles away. If one looked, one could also make out the eruptions of major volcanoes, spewing toxic gases into the atmosphere. Some had been deliberately exploded.

And, here and there, even more troubling than the nuclear blasts, were curious spots of shadow, of darkness that, even as one watched, seemed to tremble around the edges, and to expand slightly, gathering more and more of the troubled world unto them. Within these patches was no light whatsoever, and no communications of any kind issued from within.

The city resembled Earth's Los Angeles, if Los Angeles had lost a major war with an invading power. The platoon had been deployed to protect the valuables confined within the lower level of the massive bank's vault. Just the mere amount of reinforced steel would ordinarily be sufficient to keep anything inviolate from any ordinary or even extraordinary force. But what was coming for the prize was beyond even the extraordinary.

"Sarge, what're we lookin' for?"

"You'll know 'em when you see 'em! Just keep yer eyes open and yer mouth shut!" He gripped his rifle hard, as though he could squeeze extra power, extra deadliness out of it. "Pray it's not Seraphim, though." This last a mutter than still reached the ears of one closest to him.

"Pray? Who would we pray _to?_ Tell me _that_!"

"Shuddup!"

All at once, the darkling skies overhead gave birth to a strong wind that swept down from high in the southwest. "Here they come!" the sergeant yelled.

The wind grew stronger, increasing to the point to where some of the soldiers had to steady themselves against what few walls were still standing. Some were trying to brace themselves against exposed pipes—anything that would help keep them in place.

Light erupted from the southwest, an awesome brilliance that made them look away. Even the sun, at its full noon-day strength, could not equal this. Then it faded, as the forms it had brought came into sight.

There were seven of them, humanoid, but with the golden triangles of light extending from their shoulders that bespoke of their wings. Each one of them wore a gold and white uniform. _Seraphim. The Judges._

The lead angel spoke. "We've come for the hostages. Release them, and we will depart in peace…such peace as you have allowed yourselves."

The sergeant got to his feet, his face flushed in anger. "Who do you think you are, you think you can just come in here an' take ov-*" He disappeared in a thirty foot geyser of fire, the probability effects crystalizing everyone within fifty feet of him. The survivors threw down their weapons and ran.

"As a matter of fact, we _do_ think just that," muttered the angel whose hand was still raised. He inclined his head to the one to his side. "Remiel! Scan for the hostages."

"At once, Exalted One!"

"Sir!" One of the others, Lehial, spoke up. "I am sensing six inbound nuclear-tipped missiles, closing rapidly on our position!"

Jemiah shook his head. Rather than let them take the hostages, the humans would slay their own people. They had long known that nuclear weapons had no effect on angels. "Samael? Speak. Speak now."

Samael lifted his head and spoke words in a language no human could ever hear, and all at once, a shimmering dome of golden force appeared around the ruined city. It expanded outward, the missiles detonating harmlessly upon its obdurate but immaterial substance. Outward, ever outward it expanded, until it covered half the hemisphere of the doomed world. Then it simply disappeared.

"Remiel?"

"They are directly below us, Exalted One, behind reinforced steel."

"See to it."

The angel known as Remiel held out his hand, as though to receive something. Instantly, a column of intense light appeared, springing up from his palm for nearly two feet. He upended his hand over the spot he'd pointed to, shoving the light-column into the ground below.

There was an incredible _sizzling_ sound, and the earth and steel, everything in between seemed to melt back, ever back, opening like an iris, forming a perfect circle leading downward into the holding area where the hostages were being held. The other angels immediately flew down into the hole, and began helping the humans to the surface. Some of them had been badly treated. Jemiah saw this, and his anger was kindled against those responsible. Well. Judgment was coming for them, anyway.

Another contingent of angels had brought the shuttle, and the humans were rapidly seated, those with the most severe injuries tended to.

Jemiah stood before them. "Be at peace. We will transport you to a place of safety."

Soon, the shuttle, under angel guidance, was on its way to the waiting Ascendant Rescue Carrier orbiting just beyond the planet's single moon. Once it docked, those within were welcomed by EMTs, doctors, and people in general who wanted to help.

Hanging in space, Jemiah considered. This was the last of them. He consulted with the other angels; all were in agreement that departure would be wise.

Star Wormwood was approaching.

On board the ARC, the humans in charge of guiding it examined the readouts nervously: _Estimated time to neutron star impact: 22.45 hours_.

 _22.42 hours_

 _22.39_

The main drive activated, the course already set….

Back on the planet: volcanism was increasing fantastically. Every fault line became active, and the interior heat of the planet began to rise.

Closer still did the neutron star approach. Now pieces of the planet begin to be torn away, bits and pieces falling into the sky, flames erupting from everywhere…..

On the far side of the planet from the approaching stellar fragment: Darian BenDarian stood with a group of demons in an underground chamber. They could feel the shudderings as the doomed planet began to vibrate like a bell, a bell rung by the high gravity gradient of the approaching neutron star. "So. Is this all of them?" Around and before him floated several hundred globes, with the appearance of being polished crystal or glass. Yet they were not. Within each was the soul of one who'd freely given it.

When the destruction of the planet became imminent, there had been many who'd gone to the demons, stating they wished to give their souls, in exchange for survival. The demons had rejected them. To belong to a demon meant more than simply to be kept, like a watch in one's pocket. The demons sought specific souls, those souls not given over to the Darkness, those souls not corrupted by the political and sociological forces that had so torn this world apart. The demons didn't care for the souls of destroyers. That was what the Darkness was _for_.

And the patches of Darkness were spreading over the globe. It was a race to see which fate would be first: torn apart by the neutron star, or consumed by the Darkness.

Of course, BenDarian reflected, there was no reason he knew of why both should not occur.

"My lord," his lieutenant came up to him, golden trident flashing in the intermittent light. "These are the last of them. But I felt you would like to know of one in particular." He produced a small force-globe and handed it to BenDarian.

"Is this…? Yes, I can tell. Thank you, Deumas." He turned his attention to the force-globe in his hand. "You see? It is not so bad as you were led to believe."

From within the globe came a wordless feeling, like a sigh of relief, to be followed by: _I wasn't sure what to expect. I guess I thought, in spite of all you said, that it'd be horrible. But this feels like….it feels like I've always felt. Kinda nice, actually._

"Of course," said BenDarian, "it would scarcely do if the process changed you so radically that you weren't _you_ anymore. What would be the point of that? Now, we can be together forever, sharing our feelings, our emotions. You will share in my triumphs and my losses. And as I told you, it will not always be pleasant, but that is normal: a soul in perpetual ecstasy _or_ agony is an unnatural condition. You couldn't remain _sane_ in a situation like that. It would soon become intolerable to you. You wouldn't want it."

A pause. Then, _Okay. I, I guess I was just…you know…worried. But now we'll be together, forever. Right?_

"That is correct," he said, kissing the globe lightly. "My love." Turning to the others, "We must leave this world now. Gather those precious to you and let us return home."

They teleported out, shadowcloaks flipping up and over not just their own heads, but also extending around the floating force-globes.

Soon, there was no one left within the chamber. Without the demons' power to shore it up, it quickly fell victim to the seismic effects of the approaching destroyer.

 _Star Wormwood._

….

"Yes," Jemiah repeated. "Yes, it has happened before. And we would very much like for it to not happen again."

 _To be continued…._


	30. Chapter 30: Sacrifices

iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 30: Sacrifices

…..

 _I don't own iCarly_

… _._

Chapter 30: Sacrifices

Spencer's bedroom: Jillian lay, face down, on Spencer's bed while he massaged her back. Although her demon body didn't require the same maintenance of a human one, and was essentially invulnerable to anything remotely like any ordinary force, she nonetheless found his ability to knead out the kinks in her muscles nothing short of astonishing. "Mmm. You gotta tell me how you learned to do all this." The list of Spencer's talents was growing in her mind. She had thought him to be relatively inexperienced with the opposite sex, and in some ways he was, but in others he continued to astound her. "And don't say you've no idea." Several times he'd demonstrated what seemed to be _very_ knowledgeable abilities regarding sex, that he claimed he had no knowledge of where or how he'd acquired them. And, being a demon, and thus sensitive to emotions, she could tell he wasn't lying.

"Truth? I read about it in books, for, uhm, just such moments as this. Books and DVDs. There's a lot of material available out there, and it's, er, a bit more acceptable for a guy living in an apartment with his, er, sister, if you get my meaning."

"You mean, it's better if she found that than porn. Yeah, I understand. Though I'll never understand humans' reactions to stuff like that. I mean—oooh, _that's_ the spot…" He'd just found a large clump of knotted muscle.

"Hey, anything for Supergirl."

"I am _so_ not Supergirl."

"You're the closest thing on _this_ planet. And, to me, you _are_ a super girl, demon or not."

"Flatterer."

"Hey, am I lying? You'd know."

She was silent for a minute. Then, "Spencer? Where do you think these, these _openings_ are coming from?"

She could feel him shrug. "No idea there. Didn't you say you found one in your dimension? Or it found you, one or the other?"

"Yeah. And that's _never_ happened before. I mean, Hell resides in a highly entropic spot in the multiverse—just the opposite of the Darkness. Getting there, unless you belong there, have some connection there, is supposed to be impossible."

"So what's happening, you think?"

She frowned in concentration, resting her chin on her folded arms, momentarily forgetting his ministrations. "Somehow, something is, is getting through. Probably aimed at here, this world, but since there's some demonic activity here, it's…somehow managed to, to hitch a ride, is the best I can put it. It's using the connections of the demons here."

"Wouldn't it be able to 'connect' to the Heaven universe the same way?"

"I doubt it, but not long ago, I'd have said that was impossible for my dimension, too. Heaven is _also_ at a high end of multiversal power, if anything, surpassing Hell. Getting in should be like battering a hole in a glacier with your head. You'd have to have a pretty hard head.

"Or…." And here she tensed up, pushing herself up off the bed, out from under his still-kneading fingers. "Or…you'd have to have some way of siphoning off some of the power. I guess a good analogy would be heating your head up to about a thousand degrees and _then_ hitting the glacier. I mean, you know, figuratively. Or something like that." She sat up, an expression of fright on her face. "Spencer, if that's what's happening…do you know what that means?"

"No." He sat back, on his knees there on the bed with her. "What does it mean? Educate me."

"It means…the Darkness has somehow managed to make a direct connection to Hell, at least…and it's drawing power from that! The same way it drains the power from living beings—or anything else—that falls into it! Spencer, if that keeps up…

"…the entire multiverse is in danger!"

….

"But I don't understand what you're saying, Freddie. This…what? Interruption in data flow? It's just happening? What could be causing it?"

"That's just it. I haven't a clue." The four of them, Freddie, Carly, Sam and Brittney, were gathered at the Columbia Building, in the rooms provided for them by Jemiah's organization. At present, they were staring at the graph Freddie had brought up, showing a disruption in the stream of normal data traffic on the internet. "I haven't a clue as to what could be causing it. I can't even think of a good model for it…it goes into completely unknown territory. I mean, yeah, an _energy_ drain would be, like, something siphoning off electricity from a power line. I could imagine the hardware to do that…but that's not what's happening. What's happening is a _data_ siphon, not a _power_ siphon. And I can't figure out how anyone would really benefit from that. I mean, it's not like any certain, select bits of info are being targeted; it's everything."

"Brainstorm. All of you." Carly concentrated. "Who or what could possibly benefit from _information_ being drawn off into…into… Say, Freddie. Any ideas where this data could be going?"

He shook his head. "None. It's like it just disappears. Just….dissipates."  
"Wait," said Brittney. "Isn't that exactly what Devlin said the Darkness did? Drain off everything, power, life, even intelligence?"

Carly thought. "Well, yeah, but…I don't see how, how the Darkness could benefit from Earth data. What would be the point?"

Freddie's eyes widened, even as Sam's did. They'd both had the same thought. "That spacial warp! Jemiah said it was connected to all these, these portals…maybe the _Darkness_ doesn't have any need for our info, but _it_ does! Or rather, whoever or whatever's on the other side of it! It's connecting to us, telling the Darkness exactly where to go, where to open portals! It's gotta be!"

"We've got to tell Jemiah and the others! They'll-*" But she got no further. Without warning, a flare of light leapt out of the screen of the laptop in front of them, engulfing them. When it withdrew, they were nowhere to be seen.

Jemiah was upstairs, coordinating the angels' attacks with BenDarian's own troops, when he heard a small voice coming from a corner of the room. _"Mr. Jemiah! Sir, there's something I need to tell you!"_ Startled, he looked around.

By an almost-unnoticeable crack in the door sat a small furry rat, sitting up on his hind legs, forepaws twisting over each other, in what looked to Jemiah like a worried gesture. _"Mr. Jemiah! Something bad has happened!"_

"Who…?"

" _I'm Stuffins. I was down in that room where Miss Carly and her friends were doing something on that book-like thing you let them use, when there was a flare of light and they just disappeared! That's not supposed to happen, is it?"_

"No, it's not. Stuffins, you said? Stuffins, come over here. I'll transmit what you saw to my nephew." Stuffins scurried over and leaped upon Jemiah's desk. "Now, just think about what happened…"

Grif and Devlin both were making their assigned rounds, searching for more extradimensional portals, when Stuffins' boosted communication burst into their minds. _"Mr. Grif! Mr. Devlin! Something's happened!"_ And he proceeded to show them, by using his own memories, what he'd seen.

Without a word, they both turned and went straight for Seattle. Grif noticed that Devlin was especially concerned…

….and, for once, not about Sam.

Carly, Sam, Freddie, and Brittney found themselves in what looked like the Shay apartment. "Wha—how did we get here?" Brittney was looking around, clearly confused. "I mean, one minute, we were all just standing around at the—"

"I don't think we _did_ get anywhere. Or, rather, I don't think we got to where it looks like we are."

"What do you mean, Carls?"

Carly went over and checked the window. What she saw chilled her to the bone.

It appeared to be night, but there were no stars, and no moon. The city was darker than Seattle was normally, for such a bustling center of commerce. There was no sign of the moving head- or taillights of any vehicles. Instead of the innumerable nighttime lights of the city's skyline, normally visible in the darkness, she could only see a mere handful. Even as she watched, two of these simply winked out. "Guys….we're right back in the Darkness. Only now, we've no angels to get us out."

….

Grif and Devlin burst into the small room where Carly and her group had previously been. "Okay, what's happened?"

Jemiah gestured to the still-paw-wringing Stuffins. "Your friend here, saw your mortal friends disappear into flare of light that seemed to emanate from the computer system we set up for them. I've checked; there's no sign of them anywhere to be found."

" _Mr. Freddie said something about data drainage on this 'internet' thing. He was saying he felt it was related to the, the bad things that have been happening, lately."_

Devlin and Grif both looked up. "That's…possible. Wait." Grif paced the floor. "If we assume this is another attack, and we've no reason to believe otherwise, then…the Darkness is involved. I'll bet that's where they got sent to."

"The _Darkness?_ " Devlin's voice showed his incredulity. But it was the only thing that made sense.

"From what Stuffins was telling me, your friend's deduction was that some third party was using the spacial warp we discovered to drain off, not so much energy, but data, telling the Darkness where to strike next."

Grif and Devlin looked at each other. It sounded altogether too plausible. "There's no question. We have to go get them. Then…see what to do about that warp."

….

In the Darkness: Carly, Sam, Freddie, and Brittney had stepped outside, but cautiously. They all remembered the monster they'd encountered here. So far as they could see, however, there was not a creature moving. "C'mon," said Sam, heading towards a van parked by the side of the street. "Maybe I can get us a ride."

"Sam? What do you mean?"

But Sam had already opened the engine compartment. "I may be able to hotwire this thing. C'mon, we can cover more ground that way."

"I'm not sure this is a good idea, Sam," said a hesitant Carly. Freddie and Brittney hung behind her. "I mean, where are we gonna go?"

"That I haven't figured out yet. But remember, the last time, Maggie was able to send a, a tendril, whatever you wanna call it, down in that fake mall. Maybe that's the place to head for."

"But Sam! Last time, Maggie had Grif's lines of potential to connect to! We don't have that now!"

Sam looked up at her, an odd expression on her face. "Carly. Have you noticed that you're _glowing?_ "

"Huh? Glowing?"

"Yeah. Look at yourself. Maybe you can't see it because it's you, but you've got a definite glow to you."

Now that Carly's attention was drawn to it, she could see her hands surrounded by a faint golden glow. Dumbstruck, she continued to turn her hands over and over.

Sam came over to her, the vehicle now purring. "It's like I said, Carls. You're becoming like him. So maybe they can fasten on to your whatever-it-is. Anyway, it's worth a shot."

The got in the minivan, and headed off down the deserted street. On the way, Carly couldn't help but take notice of the golden nimbus of light that seemed to surround her. She was becoming like Grif? But…what did _that_ mean?

Maybe it meant something she wasn't prepared to accept.

Seattle: Grif and Devlin were preparing to re-enter the Darkness. Devlin was obviously nervous; he fidgeted. Grif noticed. "We'll get them, Devlin."

"Don't patronize me, angel. I don't need it."

"Not saying you did. Maybe I said that more for my own benefit."

Devlin was silent for a moment. Then, "Gryphon. Before we depart, there is something I'd like to say."

Grif raised an eyebrow, even while he materialized his golden armor about him. "Oh?"

"Yes." He seemed to be having some distinct internal struggle. Then, "Come what may, you've been a worthy ally." He wouldn't look at Grif while he spoke.

 _He doesn't think we're coming back. And we might not._ "Thank you, Devlin. I have been proud to fight alongside you, as well." He lifted his sword, the Light from Home gleaming from the blade, and Devlin hefted his trident, charging it with Hellfire. "Now let's focus on getting our…loved ones back."

….

The Shay apartment: Spencer had pulled up the schematics of the destroyed area around Mt. Adam, with Jillian looking over his shoulder. He found it hard to concentrate with her hair dangling down the back of his neck. It was…distracting. But she didn't seem to notice. "This is the Google Earth search of the area. Now, from what I've gathered, the area is here…but it's so deep. Evidently, there's a series of caves deep underneath the mountain. Well, what's left of it, anyway. And that's where this warp thingy is. 'S'gotta be."

Jillian was thoughtful. "So…this thing has somehow latched onto the mortal universal membranes, especially this one. Yeah, I can see how it would work…this thing sends out mini-warps, what your people call wormholes, but tiny. They infiltrate your internet…Spencer! We've gotta stop that! If this thing keeps up, it'll drain, not just this world, not just this galaxy, but this whole universe!"

"How do we stop it?"

She thought and thought fast. "I've gotta 'cloak in the mountain, and, and, do something. Disrupt it, somehow. No, wait…remember what the others said." She held the sides of her head. "They couldn't move it. It seems to be, to be stuck, or, more likely, locked, there in one spot…"

"So maybe we can disrupt what it's _doing_ , even if we can't disrupt _it._ "

"What do you mean?" Her illusory eyes gazed into his. He found himself wondering what her real eyes looked like. He knew he could never see them and live, but…somehow he still wanted to.

He got up from the table and went over to the spot where Freddie had been working on the super-router Grif had gifted them with, what seemed like so long ago. Freddie had never, of course, truly come to understand it, but he could make it do certain things.

Spencer might not be the technological whiz that Freddie was, but he'd watched Carly's tech guy connect several components to the router box. He now grabbed two boxes from the table. Jillian recognized one as a power source, one designed for an emergency cell phone recharge. The other… "Spensie, what are you doing?"

He was lost in his work. "Putting this together. This, this crystal is angel tech; it ought to work. Now all I gotta do is connect _this_ thing, this scrambler unit he told me about, and plug it in. And we should be ready to go."

"Wait, wait. 'We'? Who said anything about a 'we'?"

"We did. Me, myself and I. All I need you to do, is 'cloak me within a few meters of the warp, and I can plug this straight into it. It oughtta scramble any signals being sent either way."

"No way. You are so NOT going there! Spencer, my people gave up on the thing 'cause we couldn't move it. The angels gave up on it 'cause it apparently couldn't be fiddled with. And you're gonna just march right up to it and plug in? I _don't_ think so."

He turned to her, his work on the device now complete. "Jillian, it's the only way. We _have_ to disrupt that warp _somehow._ Doing nothing is what got us in our current predicament.

"And I need you to get me there, and then cover for me while I plug this in." He saw the refusal in her eyes, and took her hands. It was strange; he could _feel_ their emotions exchanging, his, excitement and fear, hers, anxiety and worry. "That shouldn't be any problem for Earth's Guardian Demon, now should it?

"And if anyone's got a better idea, I'd love to hear it."

She stood, stock still for a moment, looking him right in the eyes. "You're serious, aren't you? You really expect me to teleport us into this cave, and, and run interference for you while you hotwire that contraption into it?"

"I can't think of anybody I'd rather have watching my back. And it shouldn't take but a couple of minutes. Three minutes, tops. Then we 'port out. Simple."

She dropped her gaze, and exhaled a completely unnecessary breath. "I can't believe I'm even considering this."

"C'mon, Jillian. Really. It won't take long. And then? The portal will be gone. End of problem. If that _doesn't_ get you a promotion, nothing will."

"To home with any promotion! Spensie! You're asking me to put you in danger! I'm not gonna do it!"

"Jillian." He raised her hands, still in his, up to his lips and kissed them. _I'm kissing a demon. And it feels great._ "There's gonna be danger, anyway. No matter where you're talking about. It's _increasing._ These portals are popping up. This way, we take the fight to them, at least as much as we can.

"So come on. Don't worry! It'll all be okay."

"Famous last words," she grumbled.

…

Carly, Sam, Freddie and Brittney had just passed the Darkness equivalent of 41st street when they first saw any indication that they weren't alone down here.

Blocking the street was a huge…something. The quartet stared at it for the longest time, trying to wrap their minds around what it was or could be. Was it organic? Cybernetic? A combination of the two, or something completely different? Then it began to move.

It was a gigantic ovoid straddling the street on six articulated legs. The humans thought they saw some bristly hair or some such protruding from crevasses in the monster's skin, around the joints in its…armor? Carapace?

It moved, turning fully towards them, the forward end of the oval shape dipping down towards them. "Sam! Get us out of here!"

Sam was already wheeling the van around, heading back in the direction they'd come from. Nobody knew exactly why, but it seemed to be an unspoken assumption that the illusory Shay apartment afforded better protection from the forces so prevalent here than outside of it.

They could feel the ground beneath them tremble as the monstrous thing began to give a clumsy chase.

Mt. Adam: Jillian and Spencer had 'cloaked into the deep underground chamber where the demons had first located the spacial warp. Since there was really nothing they could do with the warp, there was no continuous guard placed upon it. Currently, they were alone.

"Hurry up, Spensie. I don't like it here." She was rubbing her upper arms as though cold. He noticed. "Say, you're not cold, are you?"

"Nah. But you gotta remember where I come from. To me, anything less than a trillion degrees is a cold draft. Now hurry up! I especially don't wanna be here should the guard show up. We're operatin' off the radar, you know. Acting without orders. I can tell you, from personal experience, my people don't like that at all."

She grimaced, even as she kept her guard up. Just because they'd never actually detected anything emanating from the warp, that didn't mean nothing _could._

The cavern they were in was only a small "bulge" in a shaft that went much deeper, almost to the mantle of the Earth. Spencer didn't like to think about how close they were to the molten core of the planet. He could feel the sweltering heat; Jillian was keeping it off him as much as she could. "Well, I'm sorry about the cold. Let me get straightened out here, and I'll do my damndes—er, do my best to warm you up. Whaddaya say? Is it a date?"

"It's a date." Actually, getting away from there sounded _especially_ good. And getting back to Spensie's nice, cozy bed….

He knelt on the floor, the Coleman lantern they'd brought providing him with enough light to see by. "Say. I kept hearing Devlin talk about you 'stealing' from his WorldCorp. How'd that happen?"

Again a grimace. "Well, it wasn't actually _stealing_ , as such. I didn't actually _take_ anything. Are you familiar with how big businesses are run?"

"Never have had the dubious pleasure of finding out."

"Well, a dip in _projected_ profits counts as a loss, to put it simply. And, and what I was accused of—but was never convicted of! I was never _convicted_ of it—was of costing WorldCorp because, and this is what they said, mind you—due to being 'too negative' towards the investment capital. Some people who originally wished to give their souls backed out after they'd talked to me." She shrugged. For some reason, she was tense, on edge, and kept looking around for danger.

He looked up momentarily. "So you told them the truth? About the soul thing, I mean? Jillian! How could they punish you for being _honest?_ "

"Big business and Hell have one thing in common, Spensie. Neither one has much use for honesty."

He turned back to his work, _tsk_ ing. He wasn't sure if the businesses got it from Hell, or if Hell copied the business model from mortals. "Well, anyway, here I g-*"

The earthquake hit suddenly, with no sign of any buildup. There was no warning whatsoever. One minute they were in a stable chamber, light strong and steady, and the next, the cavern walls were doing their best to crush them.

Instinctively, Jillian threw up a forcefield around them, then turned and looked for Spencer…

…who lay over on the far side of the tiny cave, with a large piece of stalactite piercing his abdomen.

Instantly, she was at his side. "Spencer! What…are you…" No, that was stupid; he _clearly_ wasn't "alright." "Can…can you hear me?"

His reply was little more than a gasp. "Y-yeah. S-sorry. Couldn't move out of the way…quickly enough…" He face twisted into a grimace of pain. "S-so much for that idea…"

A deluge of emotions cascaded through her. She cradled his head against her chest. "Oh, grief. This…this is exactly wh-what I was afraid of." She moved to straighten him out. "I'm 'cloaking you back to Maggie. That crazy angel's got some kinda balm that'll-*"

His voice was very, very weak, but she could hear him quite well. "No…don't think I'll make it." He could feel his life slipping away even as he spoke.

"No, no! You hang on! I'll get you to—*"

Weakly, he grasped her hand. "J-Jillian. Just wanted to say… glad I lived long enough…to meet y-you.

"I…love you." Even with her hearing, she could barely hear these last remarks. _And I always will._

Tears ran down her face, and she pressed his head up against her chest. She sniffled; odd how allergies could follow a person down this far into the Earth's crust. "Spencer…Spensie. Just…just hang on one more second."

Precisely six seconds after that last statement, Jillian Adara stood up. Her preternatural sight showed her the warp, the hole in space. She stood there, looking at it, literally shaking with rage. This thing had taken something from her, something precious. It was going to pay. Whatever was on the other side was going to pay. No matter what it cost her.

She brought her trident up, held it high up over her head, and charged it with as much Fire from Home as she could, the rising heat, a byproduct of the power being held in the black trident, reaching nearly a billion degrees in the space of mere seconds. The rock walls on either side of her didn't have the chance to glow orange; instead they flashed white as the tremendous heat sank into them. Then, with a fierce cry, she hurled the trident directly into the warp.

Dark Seattle:

Sam was twisting and weaving, trying to avoid the monstrosity chasing them. It apparently couldn't run, but it didn't have to: each step it took carried it several city blocks at a time. Furthermore, it seemed to have some sort of sense as to where they were going.

They began to hear a soft, susurrating voice in their minds: _Why do you run…you only delay the inevitable. All things, even in Heaven or Hell, must eventually come to us. It is the Way._

 _Join us voluntarily. Bring your lovers with you. Make them see the Way. You would have an exalted position among us…princes of the Darkness, of what will consume All._ Over and over again, the voice that was not a voice whispered into their minds. Carly could tell it was taking its toll on Sam by the way Sam set her face. Had she not been driving, she would have closed her eyes and stopped up her ears, even though she knew that would not work. But the gesture would have some meaning.

 _Carly Shay. Do you truly believe your angel lover will stay true? How old do you think he is? How many before you do you suppose there might have been? How many after you do you think there will be?_

 _Samantha Puckett. You are of two minds. You pretend to hate your demon lover because that is easier than admitting he brought forth feelings in you that you consider "weak." In Us, you would need no such feelings. Join us, here in the Night that has No Ending._

 _Fredward Benson. You desire to uncover the secrets of the universe, its workings and operation. In Us, there is perfect Unity; all secrets are revealed._

 _Brittney Simmons. You hope against hope that your demon prince will come and save you. He will not. He cares nothing for you. Has he not said as much? You desire to return to your home dimension, to your family. All dimensions are connected to Us, and through Us, including yours. Join Us, and the way will be open to you, and to them. You will be reunited with them._

 _Do not oppose us; We only want what is best for all. For We_ are _all._

"ShuddUP," murmured Sam, wrestling with the wheel. Carly and the others held on tight as Sam drove down one narrow corridor after another, alternatively dashing down one unlighted roadway, only to dart into a trash-strewn alleyway. They were lucky that so much of the place they were in was only a façade; had the buildings and said trash been real, they would probably have ended up in a horrendous crash. But most of it, at least most they contacted, was ephemeral, and so the van (and they all thanked God the _van_ , at least, was real, or appeared to be more real than the rest) was able to smash its way through the detritus with minimal harm. _Sure glad this is happening here,_ thought Sam. _If this got on my record back home, I'd never be able to afford the increase in insurance premiums._ She gave a hiccup of laughter at the thought that the others failed to catch. Just as well.

Brittney sat in the back, in a kind of funk. What the voice had said was true: Devlin had never actually come out and said he'd cared one whit for her. She knew he was crushing on Sam…Sam was a, was a nice person….maybe they'd be, y'know, happy together….

But if that were the case, she had no reason to want to go back to the world she'd just come from. There was nothing there for her; only strangeness in the proportion of everything's sheer _familiarity_. Carly and the others had been nice to her, yes. But her family….she could almost see her grandmother. How old was Grandma anyway? Pushing eighty, for sure. How much longer did she have left?

Brittney could remember running through the fields of tall grass, out by the country farm house where her grandmother lived, holding dandelions, watching them waft away in the breeze, laughing while her Grandma sat on the porch and laughed with her. She remembered sitting with her Grandma on that same porch in the evening, when the fireflies were first starting to come out, and how Grandma would tell her they were fairies from the deep wood. If you got too close, she said, they'd disguise themselves as bugs, so you'd leave them alone. But they were fairies, like Tinkerbell, doing their courtship dances. And eight-year-old Brittney had believed her. Why not? Of course, Grandma would know about these things. She remembered Thanksgivings, when Grandma would spend all day cooking in the kitchen, and some of the most mouth-watering scents imaginable would drift throughout the whole house. Would she ever see Grandma again?

And if she never saw Grandma again, what difference did any of it make?

Carly held on for dear life to her seat, but even as she did, she sensed something. Something that cut into her soul somehow, like fingernails screeching on a blackboard. This wasn't quite like that, but, in a way, it was.

Somebody was hurting. Somebody was hurting bad.

The Columbia Building: Jemiah and BenDarian watched the news feed: _"A spokesperson for the military has declined to comment on what appeared to be another explosion in, or underneath, Mt. Adam. He did state that it was not of a nuclear nature, but declined to comment on anything except to say that there was no indication of increased background radiation levels or tectonic activity. We're told that there appear to be no aftershocks, though authorities in the area have cordoned off a large area around the mountain pending further notification. Our attaché has stated that the blast could not have been caused by any natural force that he was aware of. Now, we head for Tamara McKinney, in the field. Tamara? Have you anything to add to that?"_

The attractive young woman put a hand to her ear. She was dressed for cold weather, with the fleece of her jacket showing around her neck. _"Not at this time, Bill. The military has cordoned off the area, and all vehicles are being directed around it. I understand a 'no-fly' zone has also been established over the remains of the mountain…and remains are about all there is."_ She turned halfway, indicating the smoldering mass of rubble behind her. _"Whatever it was, it had to be plenty powerful, but everybody's swearing it wasn't nuclear. I don't know what that leaves."_

" _We_ know what that leaves," muttered BenDarian.

"Indeed. Where _is_ your wayward demoness, anyway?"

BenDarian shook his head, still watching the news feed, his own senses ranging much farther afield than any broadcast could ever hope to. "Unknown. But it is to be noted that all the portals into the Darkness seemed to have disappeared at precisely the time that all this transpired." He frowned. "I, too, wonder where our agent is. And what she could have done."

Dark Seattle: Sam had turned down the last alley, only to have a massive leg come down just in front of them. _Doubt that one's ephemeral._ The quartet braced themselves as she swerved, pulling to a halt. "Everybody out!"

They tumbled out into the dark alley. They could feel the vibration as the leg _ground_ , the thing it belonged to turning towards them….

A blast of Hellfire lit up the darker-than-night sky. "Devlin!" Brittney shouted. He'd come, after all. But then her heart sank. Yeah, he'd come, alright. He'd come for _Sam_.

High above, they could see a winged figure swooping through the sky, glowing by its own light, its sword swinging at the monstrous being that seemed to embody the Darkness. The thing fell back before the combined assault, moving backward, stepping on several facades of buildings, crushing them to ash.

Grif swooped down. "Carly! Come on!" He grabbed her and Freddie, with Devlin right behind him, riding a levitated piece of rubble. Devlin grabbed Sam and Brittney, and the six of them rose up into the air, heading back towards the downtown area, where they could see a tendril, seemingly emerging from the infinite depths of the night sky, connecting sky and land. Just before they reached it, Carly happened to glance back.

Although there was no light to see by, she could somehow sense the massive monster they'd just left, sitting there, watching them go. Arrayed around it were humanoid figures from different time periods, soldiers, warriors, people wearing ordinary clothes, people wearing clothes of other time periods. All of them were gazing at the receding humans with what appeared to be rapt attention. With her new senses, she could see more than just the surface of them. She could tell they were all One. _Go your way. You will see._

 _We speak the truth._

The Columbia Building: they emerged into the human reality gasping as the shock of interdimensional travel hitting each of them in different ways.

Jemiah and BenDarian were waiting for them. "Welcome back." Grif's Aunt Maggie, sitting in lotus position on Jemiah's desk, relaxed and ran over to them once she saw they were all safe. Once again, they'd used her connection to Grif to anchor the two in the Darkness and provide them with a way back.

"What…what happened?" Carly was out of breath, and Grif supported her as she regained her composure.

Brittney lay on the floor. "Hey, Britt. You alright?" Sam sounded concerned.

Devlin went to her. "Come on, Brittney. Are you injured?" He helped her stand to her feet.

"No. No, I'm…I'm fine." She wouldn't look at him. "Thank you for, for coming for m—I mean, for us."

"Well, uhm, you're welcome." He was a bit unsure of protocol here, and besides, something else seemed to be going on, something that was confusing his senses. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure you're alright? I…wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

She looked up. Her face seemed to brighten. "You…you really mean that?"

"Of course I mean that." He looked at her oddly. "I wouldn't have said it otherwise." And for reasons he'd never in a million years be able to explain, he put his arm around her. Just a brief hug. But the look on her face…

"Well, the gang's all here…wait. Where's Jillian?" Carly asked, looking at Grif. He looked at Jemiah, who shrugged ever so slightly….

"I'm here," said a strengthless voice from the doorway. They turned to see Jillian standing by the doorway, shadowcloak around her, eyes downcast.

Carly and Maggie both ran up to her, Maggie's face showing concern. Something was wrong.

"Well, Demon Adara? What have you to report?" BenDarian asked.

Jillian hesitated a moment. Then. "I, I charged my trident and threw it into the warp."

"Did you now. And on whose authority did you do this? Or was this more of the 'Earth's Guardian Demon' thing?" She didn't answer. He continued. "So…you were responsible for the explosion at Mt. Adam? Or rather, I should say, what _used to be_ Mt. Adam?"

"Yes. I mean, yes, sir." She seemed awfully subdued, and Carly and Maggie exchanged worried glances. This wasn't like the fiery demon girl they knew.

"Well," rumbled Jemiah, " _Something_ seems to've worked. The portals have disappeared, and there is no further indication of Darkness activity, at least, directly, here on this world."

Carly rubbed the demon girl's upper arm in a comforting gesture. Maggie's expression of concern continued to deepen. "Jillian? Does Spencer know you're back?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he knows." She stopped, momentarily, sniffling. Damn allergies. "He…" She stopped, thought about what she'd say, then continued. "He was with me."

" _What!?_ What was _Spencer_ doing with you, under Mt. Adam?"

"He…he had an idea. Something about using that angel tech on that router Grif gave you. Some way of disrupting the warp, he said. But…." Tears began to flow down her face, and the others looked on, worriedly. "Th-there was an earthquake be-before he could use it. He…he got crushed underneath some rock."

Carly almost fainted in shock. "Jillian? You're telling me…my brother's _dead?_ "

Jillian just shook her head, still in the grip of her own powerful emotions. "N-no. Not, not dead." From within her shadowcloak, she produced what appeared to be a glass sphere, lit from within. "Here he is."

Carly stared. Spencer…? Then she heard a voice inside her head. _Hey, Carly. Guess I kinda screwed up, huh?_

"S-Spencer?"

 _Yeah, it's me. I had a piece of stalactite run me through. I was goin' fast. Jillian did the only thing she could do. And here I am._

Carly felt numb. Spencer? Dead? But not dead? In a force-globe?

Maggie stood next to the distraught demon. "Jillian? I know you're not alright, so that would be a stupid question, but will you let me help you?" After a brief hesitation, the demon girl nodded.

Devlin came up to them. "This is perhaps the worst time to mention this, but I have to…Jillian, you know the Black Throne won't let you keep him." And he nodded towards the force-globe that was now Spencer.

Again the demon girl nodded. She held up the sphere, and he took it from her grip. "Don't…don't let anyone be…mean to him, would you?"

 _Jillian!_

….

Hell: Grif, Carly, Sam, Freddie, Brittney, Devlin, Maggie, and Jillian stood before the Black Throne. Again, Carly was struck by the resemblance, sort of, to the wizard's chamber in the old classic, _The Wizard of Oz._ Only with a lot more fire. Sam, Brittney, and Freddie were looking around, dumbstruck. So. This was Hell.

The Black Throne rumbled. _Demon Adara. You have repeatedly defied orders, and acted outside your authority. That is inexcusable. That it ended as well as it did is sheer accident._

"I, I know." She still felt cold. Even the fires of Hell, normally soothing to her, couldn't reach her in her current state. The only one who could comfort her was lost to her forever.

Plus, she'd lost her trident. A demon without a trident wasn't much better than a devil, fit only for manual labor.

 _You have styled yourself Earth's Guardian Demon. Again, completely without authorization from Us._

"Yes, Masters. I did." She could feel herself starting to come back to life, as her temper started to rise. Was there a point to all this?

 _You are of the Obsidian Order. It is not fitting for one of such low rank to operate in the way that you have. The operatives We place in such positions of authority cannot be of such a lowly rank. It would be an insult to Us, to all We stand for, and even to those worlds upon which they are placed. So you have thrice given insult. What have you to say for yourself?_

She thought. The others watched. This was her show. _Go for broke, Jillian._ "Masters…if I had it to do all over again…I'd do the same thing. Only, only twice as hard."

The Black Throne rumbled like a thunderstorm, the sound rolling from one side to the other. _Then let it be so. Our decision is finalized. Your own words have sealed your fate._

She bowed her head, a gesture of acceptance. Here, the Black Throne's power was absolute; there was no questioning their decisions. _G'bye, Spensie. We had some great times together. I only hope whoever gets you will…will be nice to you._ There was something in the air in front of her. Oh, right. This would be the demon who'd take Spensie from her. After all, a lowly lava pit guard couldn't be allowed to collect souls; it would send all kinds of wrong messages.

She looked up. Hovering in the air in front of her was a trident, but one that shone a bright blue coloration. "Er…Masters?"

 _Take it, Demon Adara. It is yours._

"But…but…I'm only Obsidian rank! I'm not Sapphire rank!"

 _As of now, you_ _are_ _. As We said, it is not fitting for one of lowly rank to act for us in such a position of authority as Guardian Demon. Therefore, you are hereby promoted to the Sapphire Order. Now. Accept your trident. Bond with it._

It seemed as though time had come to a complete halt. As in a dream, she reached out and grasped the trident before her. She could feel it thrumming with power. "I…I'm Sapphire now?"

 _Indeed. But with provisions. You will report regularly to Us on events which transpire on the world you have elected to guard. This will be a probationary position for you. And…_ Jillian's ears perked up. There had been a subtle inflection on that last word, good or bad, she couldn't say.

 _And,_ the voice rumbled on, _You will be allowed to collect souls. However, we are restricting you to one. You may only have one soul._

Jillian felt as though a huge weight was lifted off her. She felt rather dizzy, and staggered slightly. Devlin came up to her and steadied her. Then he held out the force-globe that contained the essence of Spencer. "I believe this is yours."

She took the sphere. _Hey, Jill! I'm back! We're a team again!_

And Jillian Adara, Sapphire Order of the third circle of Hell, Earth's Guardian Demon, did something she'd never done before: she cried openly, holding the indestructible globe to her breast. _It's alright, Jill,_ he said from within the globe, _it all worked out, see?_ She could feel his immaterial presence, his arm around her, comforting her. _It's alright, Jill. Everything's alright now._

 _Devlin BenDarian. Step forward._ Devlin stepped up to the indicated area. "Yes, my lords?"

 _We are assigning you to Earth as well. And, like Demon Adara, you will be limited to one soul…for now. Choose well, for, as in Demon Adara's case, that soul will be a helpmeet for you in the dark days which we foresee._

 _Make no mistake. The Darkness has not been destroyed. We know it to be an intelligent organism now; that only serves to make it all the more dangerous. And that intelligence now knows that the universe it recently attacked has powerful defenders. It will take that into consideration next time. For there_ _will_ _be a next time._

 _It will be your job, along with Demon Adara's, to defend that world from such encroachments. And, it should go without saying, to report back any findings to Us._

 _We still do not know where the spacial warp led, or what its purpose was. More study into that is called for._

 _So the two of you are to work together, alongside the angels, in an attempt to locate the source of the warp._

 _And ever be on guard for future encroachments by the Darkness. For they, too, will come._

Jillian had wandered back to where the rest of them were, out of the immediate presence of the Black Throne, still weeping. _I didn't know demons could cry,_ thought Carly. Learn something new every day. "Jillian?"

"I…yeah, Carly?"

Carly put her arms around the demon girl. "Welcome to the family."

Devlin rejoined the rest of them, and they returned to the outer foyer, in preparation for returning to Earth. "But I don't understand," said Jillian. "The, the Black Throne _promoted_ me? That's _never_ happened before. Especially not with a, a screw-up like me!"

Devlin rolled his eyes. "Welllllllll, the way I hear it, there's a possibility that a couple of somebodies _might've_ put in a good word or two for you." And he glanced over at his uncle. Jillian's jaw dropped.

 _And Jillian,_ came Spencer's voice from the globe, _you're being too hard on yourself. Please don't call yourself a 'screw-up'; you're insulting someone I love._

She sniffled. Allergies in Hell. You wouldn't think… "Thanks, Spensie. Now…now we'll always be together."

 _I wouldn't have it any other way._

"So, nephew." BenDarian spoke to Devlin. "Limited to one soul, eh? Well, that can be enough…for a start." He paused a moment. "The Black Throne is correct in saying that you must choose wisely." His gaze took in Sam, who was looking off, arms crossed over her chest. None of this was of any interest to her whatsoever.

"Yes, Uncle Darian, I have." He went up to where Sam, Freddie, and Brittney were waiting.

Brittney hung back, eyes downcast. Now would be the time. Now he'd declare his love for Sam, and, in spite of her ongoing feud with him, express how he had time, all the time in the world. _Maybe I should have stayed back in the Darkness. At least there…._

"Brittney?" She turned towards him surprised. "Brittney…I'd like you to be with me, in the coming days ahead. The Black Throne's right: there will be more attacks. And I'd like you to be with me, to help me, if you would." His expression was one of utmost sincerity.

"Devlin? I…" She couldn't find the words. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

Could demons love? But of course; she'd seen the way Jillian had cried over Spencer. Yes, demons could love.

"I'd like us to be together."

"The, the soul thing….?"

"Perhaps in time. There's no rush. But yes, if, at some point in the future, you would, I would like to have your soul for my one and only. And if you decide not to, that's alright, too. But, regardless, I'd still like to have you by my side, helping me. You don't have to be enclosed in a force-globe to be…to be mine, you know."

"I…I…" Again the words wouldn't come.

"And I remember what I said, about trying to find your world-line. No matter what you decide, I'll still try to do that. But understand I can't promise anything. I will try to get you home."

To Here with words. She threw her arms around him, pulling him close. "Whether or not you do," she whispered, "It doesn't matter. As long as I'm with you, I'm home."

"So," said Sam, looking at the two with an unreadable expression on her face. "You've given up on collecting _my_ soul?"

He turned to her. "Yes, Sam, I have. I like to think I've matured some since then. And since you're so adamant that I won't get it, then I can't anyway, can I?

"Besides, your soul already belongs to someone else. You just haven't figured it out yet." And he led Brittney off towards the exit.

Freddie came up alongside Sam. "Your soul already belongs to someone? What do you suppose he meant by _that_?"

Sam shrugged. "You've got me."

 _The End._


End file.
